At last Dirmit came upon a way. One by one, she took the words from her head and put them into her heart. When a word made her heart pound she wrote it down at once. When it had no effect she cast it out. From that day forward, Dirmit became a slave to her heart, doing what it told her to do, going where it told her to go, saying what it told her to say.
Dirmit looked at the spot left by her mother's finger. Then she ran her eyes across the four walls and counted all the marks that had been stamped there to predict that they would be abandoned, they would go mad, they would be left to starve without a roof over their heads, or they would fall into evil ways. 'We've made so many markes for one another!' she reflected. Then she got up and started to scratch off all the spots.