Lucy looked about confusedly. “My only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the poster. 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. Sheppard. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window.
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