Lightly, Gemma set herself back on the ground to stand just behind the beast. It still posed on its knees, facing the pyre, ramrod but trembling, orgasmic. Even on its knees, the back of its head was still nearly a foot above her eyeline. Even facing away from her, the revolting stench of its breath bellowed up and around its massive hairy head. It had no power to revolt Gemma’s gummed-up nostrils. The tinkling skull drums and hissing bones on the pyre had no power to irk Gemma’s punctured eardrums. The steaming blood on its fur and massive outstretched paws, each larger than her torso, had no power to shrink Gemma’s sealed eyes.

It is a man, the Virgin Mary cautioned her.