SOURCE: "The Artist-in-Exile: Brian Moore's North American Novels," in Eire-Ireland, Vol. XII, No. 2, Summer, 1977, pp. 14-33.

An Excerpt from the Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne

She scrabbled in the bureau drawer for the keys to the trunk and took them out with a hand that shook so the keys rattled. She unlocked it and found one bottle, wrapped in cheap brown paper. Then, apologetically, she clambered up on the bed and turned the Sacred Heart towards the wall. He looked at her, stern now, warning that this might be her last chance ever and that He might become the Stern Judge before morning came, summoning her to that terrible final accounting. No awakening to see James Madden, to walk ever in the city, to ever see him again. Tonight I may cast you down, He said. My Patience will not last for ever.

But the rage had started...