You love it, don’t you?” “Love what?” “Money. Fucking for money like a whore.” She stopped responding to me. Her body was stiff and he... eyes were cold. She didn’t like what she heard. Had I gone too far, challenging her dignity? “How dare you…” but I wouldn’t let her finish. “I’m not complaining, but I call a spade a spade. Now if you want me to leave, I will, but I have a lot more money and all you have to do to get it… is fuck me like a dirty pig.” I picked up a couple chains and put. After dinner, Sam said, "Ed, we need to find somewhere we can camp for a few days and just rest up. We should ride a little every day, but only a few miles. We really need to get used to the riding instead of walking." Okay, that's not a bad idea, but why don't we do it this way? It's about fifty miles to Portsmouth, which is our next stop. Why don't we just take our time for the next few days? Maybe go around five miles a day at first, then start working our way up again. If we decide we don't. More

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