” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake.
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