”“Yes,” said Mr. Simple, “I could tell that. He seems very skilled at ... pleasing you.”I giggled inside. This seemed to be headed right whe...e I wanted it. I’d talk dirty to this horny old man for a while. That might change his mood a little.“Mr. Simple...” I said. “I trust you. I feel like I can discuss this stuff with you ... stuff like this.”“Yes, my dear,” he said, and I giggled to myself again. A moment ago he was going to fire me, and now I’m his dear. “I was young, once. I know what it’s. "Why didn't you?" I countered weakly.From this time on Mamma Agnes maintained a stony indifferencetoward me, speaking only when unavoidable, and then with causticbrevity.One Saturday evening about a month later, as I was returning to thehouse after having spent the afternoon with a girl friend, a young manpassed me in the street. His glance, as it appraisingly flitted over myface and body, conveyed the message I had learned to recognize and ina brief moment of passing I was able to observe that. More

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