’ She tossed her head. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. To have spoken lightly on such a subject a few hours ago would have seemed incredible. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. The buboes broke and God took Lucia's mother.
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