Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack from my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lack'd anything, "A guest," I answer'd, "Worthy to be here"; Love said,"You shall be he."
For a moment, I thought the daughter was behind all of these. She knew the whole scheme all along and played her mother-in-law right into her grave. And when I was just figuring what's in for her except the thrill of a sociopath. It all ended. FML.