BISKRA. Yes, take out the idol you carry on your breast.
GUIMARD takes out a locket.
BISKRA. Trample on it now, and then call on the only God, the Merciful One, the Compassionate One!
GUIMARD. [Hesitating] Saint Edward—my patron saint?
BISKRA. Can he protect you? Can he?
GUIMARD. No, he cannot!—[Waking up] Yes, he can!
BISKRA. Let us see!
She opens the gate; the curtain flaps and the grass on the floor moves.
GUIMARD. [Covering his mouth] Close the door!
BISKRA. Throw down the idol!