She can laugh at it.

But she has her own dreams, and they consume her as a saint is consumed by his devotion.

She has told me them, and if the day in the garden was hell, the days since have been the innermost fires of Tophet.

I think--it is horrible to say it--that she has got some kind of crazy liking for me.
When we have reclaimed the East I am to be by her side when she rides on her milk-white horse into Jerusalem ...

And there have been moments--only moments, I swear to God--when I have been fired myself by her madness ...' Sandy's figure seemed to shrink and his voice grew shrill and wild.