She raised her chin slightly, then spoke to the imaginary audience in a voice that was soft but clear, even though it quavered a little. “I’m sorr... for biting my nails, Sir.” I returned to her then and taking her by the shoulder slowly turned her around to face the chair. Strangely, she seemed very calm and made no resistance as I gently bent her over the back of the chair, then went around and drew her hands forward to grasp the edge of the seat. Only the shallowness of her breath gave any. The plan was this. Golf on the North Shore with myfriends Paul and Mark. We would tow the boat to thecourse, play a round of golf, drive to a nearby marinaand Annette and some of her girl friends would meet usfor the one-hour boat ride to the bar. We would pull atube behind the boat for some water sports, drink lotsof Budweiser and probably be somewhat ripped beforeeven getting to “The Stop”. The boys were more than alittle disappointed when Annette showed up solo.All of her friends. More

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