shrine I worship, when he ridicules my religion, I feel as though my heart would crack with rage.
"Bravery, thou art extinct, and there is a premium placed on public cowardice. He attacks me from a safe place, behind the battlements of the pulpit. I indulged in the vain hope of having won the respect of one honest man, among the contemptible puppies by which I am surrounded, and I find that he, too, has a narrow, putrid soul. He wants to enhance his reputation at my expense. A vulgar woman would horsewhip him. I cannot so commonize myself. A barbarous woman would kill him, a bold woman would insult him. My vengeance upon him shall not be commonplace.
"A fool, too, he is. There is no wisdom in him. Does he think he can rob me of the affection of New York? What idiotic nonsense! Not a thousand sermons could do that. My place in art is greater than his in the church.
"Ah, I have it! I'll make him supremely ridiculous. I'll make the city laugh at him. I'll carve a work with him as central figure, and I'll christen it 'Satan Rebuking Sin.'"
Like a woman, she laughed at the cleverness of her conceit, dressed and took a fierce drive through Central Park.
