She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. You did not learn that in a convent. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away.
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