From time to time, she would bang her head against the wall. Her delusional appearance formed a diametric contrast to her noble temperament of the past. Looking at her now, one could not help feeling sorry for her.
The man took a step closer. Standing outside the iron bars, he frowned at the disheveled-looking woman.
Holding his breath in deep concentration, he finally seemed to catch what she was muttering.
"Child… child… my child…"
Her lips opened and closed continuously as she chanted like a person possessed.
She looked as if she had been cast with a curse!
Her two hands twirled her hair into a bunch, and occasionally, she would tug it forcefully. The woman then would repeat her action when the hair was pulled out, seemingly oblivious to the pain!
"He he… he he… child… Child, my child… terrible… It's so terrible…"
She sobbed and pulled her hair numbly, just like a woman who had gone crazy!
