He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. ” She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. "Precisely.
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