” 227 “Your family?” “She was my first wife, and because she turned me, she was like a mother to me. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. Moving room to room it was. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. Montague Hill. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that.
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