It is an old conversation that has come back to me. We were talking, and I told you that I'm usuallyfine as long as the line between being fair and unfair was not crossed. Words unspoken: let that line be our own Rubicon - you can go there, you can even wash your soiled feet on its running waters, but once you cross it there is no way back, alea iacta est and all that. I never told you that, any more than I told you that you crossed the Rubicon at some moment, and it was the point of no return for me. I'm not sure if you did it willingly, but that's beyond me: you did it, and it couldn't be undone. It doesn't quite make our last words an act from my part - it merely meant that you had paid the price in blood and I didn't even have to get my hands dirty in the process.