And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. I want you to be my lover. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. So she married him. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. Lucy did not want to have to kill the mother, as she hated more than anything to kill women, no matter what their sins. Why not? Quite willing.
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