“And it isn’t ridiculous to the poor who will no longer be threatened with destitution now that he’s dead.” “You will have the poor with you always; is that not what your Christ says?” you said with a sneer. I recoiled. An unexpected harsh word from you was as jarring as a slap from any other man, and your temper had been spiking more and more recently. Vienna made you irritable as much as it made me blossom. I wouldn’t realize until later that you were irritable precisely because I was in bloom, because there were suddenly so many sources of joy in my life apart from your presence.
