Sybille was too simple a girl to respond to his daring, his blasphemy, with any kind of sophisitication.  She merely shook her head, almost lifting her hands to her ears so that she would not be forced to listen to such idolatry, but she remembered her torn dress just in time, and restrained herself.<br/><br/>"And for this you have brought me here?  What gave you the right to have your killer steal me from my home, from my mother and father?"  Her lip quivered at the memory of the ones she sensed she would never see again, but she did not cry.