During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. He looked like an animated skeleton that someone had hung a smelly 105 brown beard upon. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. I hadn’t heard of him before the trial. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. .
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