"Put all that aside; forget it. It is only out of books; they are lies, those books." And laughing softly, gayly, "Think for a moment, silly! God was; and His Mother was not? Then of whom was He born?"
"I don't know."
"Good! You have learned enough to be able to say 'I don't know.'"
"The priest said that the Mother of God was born of Joachim and Anna."
Then grandmother was angry. She faced about, and looked sternly into my eyes.
"If that is what you think, I will slap you." But in the course of a few minutes she explained to me. "The Blessed Virgin always existed before any one and anything. Of Her was God born, and then—"
"And Christ, what about Him?"
Grandmother was silent, shutting her eyes in her confusion.
"And what about Christ? Eh? eh?"
I saw that I was victor, that I had caused the divine mysteries to be a snare to her, and it was not a pleasant thought.