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She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. Seems you were right about Valade. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror.
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This video was uploaded to twincitieshomes.info on 19-09-2024 01:40:35
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