He was, to all appearances, just another businessman with a wife who had been forced to make the aging woman’s choice between her face and her body, and had, judging by the photographs accompanying the article, opted for the body. She was okay from the lower neck down—a bit scrawny for Sumner’s liking, and with the kind of raised veins on her arms that would have given him the shivers to touch—but her features had the drawn, rapacious look of someone who spent too much time wishing she could eat more.
