“No need. I baited him. It’s his own fault for not having better self-control.”She gave me a slight nod. “I am Lucie Hanberg. We spoke on the ...hone.” Then she turned and held out a hand to the only other man in the room. “This is Kurtis,” she said as a thin man with long straight hair nodded. He wore a beige turtleneck sweater, black slacks, and highly polished black leather shoes. I had heard that you can often judge a person by the shoes they wear. Kurtis looked as if he didn’t do much on his. The only saving grace was his mother had old timber money; that relieved her of the need to work, so she was there every afternoon to greet Cecil, dry his tears, and comfort him in her special little ways.So Cecil is sort of a wuss, unworldly, and with a suffocating, castrating mother no sexual experience, that is as most folks would view the subject.Cecil did, even at nineteen, not like to leave his mother this long, and he was sniffling as he took his seat about midway down the aisle of the. More

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