But he said it without hope. She will win, he thought. She always wins. Soon she will come out of the shed and give her orders. Somebody will come and take my wonderful god away - not a god any more, just a brown ferret in a box. Then there will be nothing important in my life ... The doctor will be right. I shall sicken and die. She will win. She always win... In his pain and misery, conradin began to sing the song of god