They rarely turned squarely to look at our house face to face, but looked from the corners of their eyes or from over a shoulder or through their fingers. “It used to be a lovely old house, I hear,” said the woman sitting on our grass. “I’ve heard that it was quite a local landmark at one time.” “Now it looks like a tomb,” the other woman said. “Shh,” the first woman said, and gestured toward the house with her head.
