women. And there the souls of the dead come to rest, there, at the very centre, where the blood turns and returns; that is where the dead sleep best.”
There was a very blank pause.
“And wilt thou go on saying thou art the Living Quetzalcoatl?” said Cyprian.
“Surely! And when you are a little older, perhaps you will come to me and say it too.”
“Never! Thou hast killed our mother, and we shall hate thee. When we are men we ought to kill thee.”
“Nay, that is bombast, child! Why wilt thou listen only to servants and priests and people of that sort? Are they not thy inferiors, since thou art my son, and thy mother’s son? Why dost thou take the talk of servants and