Una just couldn't be annoyed with Niko, because, well—he had a point. She snorted, amused, and proceeded to light a cigarette, offering one to Niko.
"My men are charming, dangerous, or doomed—or some combination of the above," she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug. "Another way of putting what you said, I suppose. Arguably my women are much nicer and I really ought to stick to them, but the heart wants what it wants, I suppose." She drew on the smoke, inhaling it in the French style. "My friend Lobkowitz—" and here she laughed a little, because well-spoken sad men who smile a lot described him nearly exactly, and they had been lovers, "—he would say that it's inherently feminine, to want to save everything. The world, a class, a single hapless man—all of it. We all have a mother within us." She made a waving-away gesture with her hand. "He's an old-fashioned man, is Lobkowtiz."
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"My men are charming, dangerous, or doomed—or some combination of the above," she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug. "Another way of putting what you said, I suppose. Arguably my women are much nicer and I really ought to stick to them, but the heart wants what it wants, I suppose." She drew on the smoke, inhaling it in the French style. "My friend Lobkowitz—" and here she laughed a little, because well-spoken sad men who smile a lot described him nearly exactly, and they had been lovers, "—he would say that it's inherently feminine, to want to save everything. The world, a class, a single hapless man—all of it. We all have a mother within us." She made a waving-away gesture with her hand. "He's an old-fashioned man, is Lobkowtiz."