“No, no,” Akos said. “Don’t hack at it—slice. Slice!” “I am slicing,” I said. “Maybe if your knives weren’t so dull—” “Dull? I could cut your fingertip off with this knife!” I spun the knife in my hand and caught it by the handle. “Oh? Could you?” He laughed, and put his arm across my shoulders. I felt my heartbeat in my throat. “Don’t pretend you’re not capable of delicacy; I’ve seen it myself.”
