You cannot fill a cup with water beyond the brim.
And God knew that his cup had been full and bitter and red.
His hand swept across his eyes as if to brush away the pictures suddenly conjured up.

He must keep his thoughts off those things.

There was a taint of madness in his blood, and several times he had sensed the brink at his feet.

But God had been kind to him in one respect: The blood of his glorious mother predominated.
How many were after him, and who?
He had not been able to recognize the man that night in Hong-Kong.

That was the fate of the pursued: one never dared pause to look back, while the pursuers had their man before them always.