She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. ” Hill closed his eyes. Montressor’s guests were. . “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. ” “I’m sorry. She is the wife now of another man.
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