“Not even a kiss for your old friend?”“Am I?”He rocked back in his chair. “Are you what?” he said, sounding puzzled.I laughed bitterly. �...Am I Janet, or am I your old friend?”He reached across the table, and took my hand, forcing it from its mate. “Janet, look at me. Please.”So I did. I let him see all the lines and wrinkles, the extra pounds, the grey hairs and depredations that life makes on someone who is 63 years old. I stared at him.He rocked back in his chair again. “What’s wrong?”I threw. When she came for her private lesson she was not ready; she had simply not managed to find the time to learn it."What punishment do they use at school for disobedient children who have not done their homework properly?" the priest asked sternly, knowing full well the answer.She paused for a moment before answering very quietly, "The cane, Father." Speak up!" he snapped."The cane, Father," she repeated, only a little louder."Then I shall do the same," he decided, suppressing his excitement as. More

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