What would have sounded as folly, overwrought, sentimental, almost laughable, perhaps, to other women, found an echo in her own childish memories and a sympathy in her belief in her own mysterious nature.

The Wanderer had heard men talk as Israel Kafka talked, in other lands, where speech is prized by men and women not for its tough strength but for its wealth of flowers.
"And love was her first captive," said the Moravian, "and her first slave.

Yes, I will tell you the story of Unorna's life.

She is angry with me now.

Well, let it be.