“Ah!” said Carlota, setting the vase on the table. “I did not bring them for any gods, especially strange ones. I brought them for you, Señora. They smell so sweet.”
“Don’t they!” said Kate.
The two men went away, Ramón laughing.
“Ah, Señora!” said Carlota, sitting down tense at the table. “Could you follow Ramón? Could you give up the Blessed Virgin?—I could sooner die!”
“Ha!” said Kate, with a little weariness. “Surely we don’t want any more gods.”
“More gods, Señora!” said Doña Carlota, shocked. “But how is it possible!—Don Ramón is in mortal sin.”
Kate was silent.
“And he wants to lead more and more people into the same,” continued Carlota. “It is the sin of pride. Men wise in their own conceit!—The cardinal sin of men. Ah, I have told him.—And I am so glad, Señora, that you feel as I feel. I am so afraid of American women, women like that. They wish to have men’s minds, so they accept all the follies and wickedness of men.—You are Catholic, Señora?”
“I was educated in a convent,” said Kate.
“Ah, of course! Of course!—Ah, Señora, as if a woman who had ever known the Blessed Virgin could ever part from her again. Ah, Señora, what woman would have the heart to put Christ back on the Cross, to crucify him twice! But men, men! This Quetzalcoatl business! What buffoonery, Señora; if it were not horrible sin! And two clever, well-educated men! Wise in their own conceit!”