She was a small woman, short and thin-boned. I knew she was in her early fifties, but she could have passed for at least twice that. When we'd first met, I thought she looked like someone on her deathbed, and she'd looked worse every time after that. Buddy had no muscle tone whatsoever, simply because she never did anything even vaguely physical. And the only -reason she wasn't a tub of lard was because she ate only when she remembered to ... which was rarely. The corpse-like pallor of her skin didn't help, either, but what else could be expected for someone who probably hadn't stepped out of the house in years?