For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. "What are those odd-looking things on the roofs?" she asked of Ah Cum. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. I worshipped women long before I found any woman I might ever hope to worship.
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