you could have given him your life, he would not even have wanted to die.”
“I did give him my life. I loved him—oh, you will never know.—But he didn’t want my soul. He believed I should keep a soul of my own.”
“Ah, yes, men are like that, when they are merely men. When a man is warm and brave—then he wants the woman to give him her soul, and he keeps it in his womb, so he is more than a mere man, a single man. I know it. I know where my soul is. It is in Ramón’s womb, the womb of a man, just as his seed is in my womb, the womb of a woman. He is a man, and a column of blood. I am a woman, and a valley of blood. I shall not contradict him. How