She eyes Ezio's clothing for a moment, thinking about what she said, about different times. She still thought it was strange, and really a very stupid concept, but if Ezio does not recognize her as an American, it may be the reason.

"America, across the Atlantic." She adds the latter part, even if it might turn out to be unnecessary.

Her second question is much more difficult to answer. She has never been one to make 'friends.' She had always been far too selfish, she saw only what could be used, what could benefit and amuse her. She would not say she had changed in that outlook, not truly, just become gentler in her greed. She, likewise, had cared very little for family. Barbet was not either of these things. Zinc knows very little Italian, but the word is the same be it French, Spanish, or Italian:

"Amant, once." Not any longer. He wouldn't touch her that way now that she was dead. There was a part of her that appreciated it, she wouldn't have enjoyed such an advance in any way, but the rest of her remembered his affection and longed to have it back. "He's an artist. He works in... many things. I worked in metal. Zinc, soft and easy to... etch into."