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. I won’t even ask. "Blueskin," said Ireton. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. That's the way she strikes me. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour.
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