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445 pages, Hardcover
First published September 13, 2016
Okay, what with the wig and the makeup, and his blacked-out teeth, he didn’t look too great right then; but behind his gappy grin shone the old Lockwood smile, and that smile and those words together swept everything else aside. All guilt and queasiness were gone, and I was conscious of nothing other than the thrill of being there with him.
“I don’t get worn patches on the seats of my trousers,” Lockwood said. “And I don’t have any jeans.”
“Well, think of mine, then. I have plenty of old pairs. The fabric gets thin, then stringy, then widens to an actual hole. All of a sudden it’s embarrassing when you bend over. It’s the same here, except that it’s not your underwear showing—something else comes through.”
“This metaphor is disturbing in a number of ways,” Lockwood said. “Right now I’m actually less worried about the ghosts than about the other images you’re conjuring up.