“No.”
“Why not?”
“My touch is poison. My kiss is death.”
The sense of fear began to come to me now. I moved my head away on the pillow. The whisper followed my movement.
“Leave me,” I said. “You are an Evil Spirit.”
The whisper answered: “I am your mother.”
“You come to tempt me.”
“I come to harden your heart. Daughter of mine, whose blood is cool; daughter of mine, who tamely submits—you have loved. Is it true?”
“It is true.”
“The man you loved has deserted you. Is it true?”