This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. The executioner shook his head. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy.
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