“When pleased, I beat like a drum. When sad, I break like glass. Once stolen, I can never be taken back. What am I?” She thought for a long moment before venturing, “A heart?” Hatta’s eyes warmed. “Very acute, Lady Pinkerton.” “It’s very good,” she said, “although I wonder whether it wouldn’t be more accurate to say, ‘Once given, I can never be taken back.’” “That would imply we give our hearts away willingly, and I am not sure that is the case.
