It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. She found an old drunk wandering the streets. 9. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. “Lucy Albert. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object.
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