\" Michelle's shoulders sank, feeling the weight of the pack. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. Caution forced her to speak calmly. The occasion is worth a dash of the grape, lad. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. There you will be, in an inner temple.
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