And then he blest us. She was beautiful,
Your grandmother.
Icelin. Your grandmother.I am like her.
Dansberg. Icelin. Your grandmother.I am like her.Yes, yes, yes.
She was a crimson-mouthèd piece of snow.
Her lips would often bleed, so red they were—
Altho’ her skin so white.
Icelin. Altho’ her skin so white.You say so?—Why,
My lips are bleeding.
Dansberg. My lips are bleeding.Then you’re thinking evil.