Aren't There Butchers Enough?

iv.

Mrs. Lovett knew a great many things. She poured herself in great shuddering drops over the old, yellowing dog-eared pages of books she kept squirreled away in the crumbling spare room. Mrs. Lovett knew that when Mr. Todd crawled into her bed, there was hunger and greed where love should have lit some carefully kindled fire, just as Mr. Todd knew that Mrs. Lovett's body was not a place where roses bloomed.