She waved the branch in
strange patterns, moving from side to side and repeating the same
chant, so that the smoke which still seethed from it drew wisping
traces about the door, the window, the whole of the house. Then turned
again, and cast it to the ground before her. She opened her eyes wide,
oblivious to the stinging smoke, and whispered harshly.
"You leave us be!"
She went inside.
Four
As if a troubled thought that had slowly worked its way through her
second sleep, with the first light of dawn Mary sat bolt upright in
the bed, and said aloud.
"He's not my brother."
The old woman, who had apparently not slept at all, turned to her from
her place by the fire, now lowered to glowering coals for cooking. She
thought to reply harshly, then checked herself. Like a skilled surgeon
or a patient general (or a bitter woman gnawed by hate), she knew that
the matter of her daughter's lost love must be handled with extreme
care.
"Not your brother. Your cousin."
"Then---" The realization scalded her. "We could have married! There
was no sin, no shame in what I felt for him.
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