Nor did I know that my uncle Stéphanos had a brother. During one of those trips, somehow his brother was mentioned. I said with an incredulity that I still remember vividly, “I didn't know you had a brother.” He started shouting (my uncle Stéphanos had a very liberal relationship to what we call inappropriate language): “A brother? Do I ever have a brother? That faggot [ho poústes], that worm, that awful human [o palianthropos], he was the one who testified against me and they sent me to Yioúra.” Much later I found out that his brother (whose name I was never told) was a gendarme.