11 THE IMMORTAL
John watched Mannon intently as he walked to the coffee pot, and poured a cup for himself, the Monk, and for John. The man moved so exactly, so precisely, that it seemed that every move was long since choreographed, like steps in an intricate dance.
John could see the centuries of practice in the art of movement of the man. How many thousands of his friends must have succumbed to death, while the years condemned him to dance the well-worn dance of life?
"I hear tell, that when Social Security starts paying out based on a total number of quarters of work history, you are going to have a really big payday," John ventured. "How much of what I have heard about you is true?"
"Depends on what you have heard," Mannon replied. "My guess is that it is a mix of truth and lies, li
