“She’s staying the night at Grandma’s,” he told me. “So we have the house all to ourselves.” He led me into a sparkling clean kitchen I va...uely recognized as my own. Our table had been set with a crisp red tablecloth and two place settings of our good china and crystal. A flower centerpiece was flanked by elegant white taper candles in silver holders. Steam rose from the food, tastefully arranged in serving dishes rather than pots and pans. “What’s the occasion?” I asked lightly. “I just wanted. I was getting quite a stipend from Amadeus, and now Priscilla wanted to help out, too. Who am I to be insulted by their filthy lucre? In Priscilla’s back yard, she had a small building that she called her Woodshed. She asked me to meet her there the next day at three o’clock.When I opened the door, her long red hair was tied into pigtails, and she was wearing a frilly white dress, knee high white stockings and patent leather Mary Janes. She was licking a lollipop. Normally, Priscilla was very. More

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