Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. You truly are your mother’s, Lucia. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. It is that you cannot refuse her sanctuary. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. ‘If you love me, you will say it, or else I will blow off your head.
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