This is a continuation of 
"...rest her soul."
At this point the congregation grew restless. There had been those rumors. There were those gnawing suspicions. I knew there was a smirk on her face, even though all I could see was the back of her head.
And the pearls around her neck. I could see where the pearls had degraded somewhat, where the pearls had come into contact with something corrosive to pearls. Like a potion from a small out of the way specialty store, one that catered to only those with a certain type of need.
Not just anyone could walk into the place. Only if the customer were desperate wnough to please some dark force in the universe, would the "open" sign appear. The sign would switch back to "shut" as soon as the desperado walked through the door.
The elderly shopkeeper had a little something to use for each of the seven deadly sins, the seven deadly itches. Marcus had come in desperate for a good old honest to goodness love potion. And boy did he ever get more than he bargained for.
