She turns to me again, her head twisted back to see me. He squats behind her and her hands grip the sheets. I watch the tension mount in the muscles i... her arms and legs, folded tightly beneath her. The awaiting man spreads her cheeks and lines up the head at her tiny, wrinkled back door. She's breathing hard, tense and tight, a coiled spring mounted on a steel rod. Her eyes are dark and wet and wide, her lower lip caught in her teeth, jaw set, poised to release. Again I find my eyes darting. They’dcut her off without a cent, and she wouldn’t be able to graduate from Beauty Collegein the Spring.She had been gradually sounding out her parents on her weekly telephoneconversations with them. Every Sunday morning at approximately nine o’clock, herparents called. She’d tried mentioning that lots of couples nowadays were livingtogether but she always got the same reaction.“At least we don’t have to worry about you doing something sinful like that!” hermother had exploded. “I’d never rest. More

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