For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. Just dreamed—and ran away even from my dreams. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. "And, may I be cursed if I ever did anything in my whole life which gave me so much satisfaction. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought.
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