"I know little of women. But I've heard dread tales." -- Harold Pinter.
Billowby went behind the bar, tucked the pumpkin under his arm and carried it into the kitchen. Sully hadn’t given a thought to the essay since the night Billowby had brought it up. He’d been obsessed—possessed was the word—with his story, in particular the character of Boone, and dressing up as a bum had seemed only natural. He’d been running it by Linda, who’d given it the thumbs-up for the most part. She’d thought his portrait of Viveca Dupree was a little one-dimensional, and he’d told her that that was about as deep as his knowledge of women went. -- Chapter 24, The Misforgotten.