She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Her hips were wide and her athletic legs supported a very large rear end, which she flaunted by 140 wearing her gym shorts two sizes too small. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. Ralph. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. I shall not let you go till I am quite sure.
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