"I am but a mortal, Folle-Farine. Can I open the gates of the tomb, or close them?"
"You can save him,—for you have gold."
He smiled still.
"Ah! you learn at last that there is but one god! You have been slow to believe, Folle-Farine!"
She clung to him; she writhed around him; she kissed with her soilless lips the base dust at his feet.
"You hold the keys of the world; you can save the life of his body; you can give him the life of his soul. You are a beast, a devil, a thing foul and unclean, and without mercy, and cruel as a lie; and therefore you are the thing that men follow, and worship, and obey. I know!—I know! You can save him if you will!"
She laughed where she was stretched upon the ground, a laugh that stayed the smile upon his mouth.
He stooped, and the sweetness of his voice was low and soft as the south wind.
"I will save him, if you say that you are tired, Folle-Farine."
Where she was stretched face downward at his feet she shuddered, as though the folds of a snake curled round her, and stifled, and slew her with a touch.