Smudger An old term for a photographer, one that alludes to dodgy developing.
To one like Elia, whose treasures are rather cased in leather covers, than closed in iron coffers, there is a class of alienators more formidable than that which I have touched upon; I mean, your borrowers of books—those mutilators of collections, spoilers of the symmetry of shelves, and creators of odd volumes.
The affinities between Guroian and Cavanaugh are, perhaps, best summed up in Cavanaugh's declaration that the “point is not to politicize the Eucharist, but to 'Eucharistize' the world.”
[…] Pat, in another sense, had done nothing for him; Nick hadn’t liked his brand of cagey camp, and had been snotty and priggish with him: so that, more shamefully still, he felt subtly disembarrassed by the death, since it erased the memory of his own bad grace.
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