“ This plant seemed to be up to something, to be carrying on a questionable traffic with itself. There was no harmony, no proportion in its parts. It exhibited all the stages of its development at once. It was young, middle-aged and old at the same time. Not only did it bear its fruit and flowers together, but there was a strange discrepancy between the size of its leaves: some were no longer than my little finger, others much longer than my hand. It invited yet repelled inspection, as if it was harboring some shady secret that it wanted you to know.