At the Batemans' house that evening there had been a great shifting of books so that Phyllis's office could work as a living room. George had piled them around the walls, behind the sofa, to the ceiling of the small closet off the hall. "You don't know how dirty books are until you get your hands on 'em," George said. "Dirty books? Oh, my," Louise Sturgis said, which disgusted George, though he looked down at his feet to try to hide the expression. He wore a necktie and a dark blue suit that was too narrow and too long for him—his funeral and wedding suit, he told Luke when no one else was listening. Phyllis had introduced Luke to "Louise and Coleman Sturgis," and for a while Luke thought Coleman Sturgis must be Louise's husband, or ex-husband, but it turned out he was her brother. A young-looking, lanky man in his forties, he had the slightly rumpled, translucent face of a drunk who seemed, for the evening, to be watching his intake. His eyes were blue, watery and ingratiating, and he didn't resemble his darker sister at all.
