He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. ” She did not wait for Ann Veronica’s reply. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses.
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