She’d punched me on the arm hard enough to leave a bruise a couple of times, but there hadn’t been anything intimate other than discussion about �...��the plan.”That night Jennifer seemed subdued. When I slid into bed beside her, she cuddled up naked to me and rested her head on my shoulder.“I like him, Bobby,” she sighed.“I thought we decided that would be a good thing,” I replied.“I never wanted to be touched by anybody but you,” she said.“Come on, you made out on dates,” I accused.“I went through. She knows what you’re going through. She’s a joy and she’ll love you and vice versa. And she’s sixty actually. I want you to do her show. I’ve cleared it with the production company and they’re letting us have a note of what you can and cannot say.” “See? I might as well wear a gag or have a ventriloquist’s hand up my bum.” “It’s not like that. It’s simply to avoid fucking up the publicity for ‘Trade Secrets.’ Behave.” “OK. I’ll do the bloody show. Tell me what to wear.” “Oh, I will. You’re a. "Damn it!" she swore, "This better be good.".The knocking began again, except it was now less of knocking and more of beating on her door. She brushed some frothy foam off her breasts and down her flat belly, then stepped out of the tub, grabbing her towel and brushing more water away as the incessant knocking began anew."I'm coming!" she shouted in anger, then grabbed her robe from its hook and walked out of the bathroom as she wrapped the garment around her shoulders and covered her naked. "I looked where she pointed and saw it too. I helped her down, and we walked slowly upstream until we saw a rope ferry and a tavern alongside a well-worn road.We straightened our clothes. She dabbed at my forehead. "It's stopped bleeding," she told me. And we approached the tavern carefully. I had discarded my jacket and stock and no longer looked much like a soldier. I kept the pistol in the back of my britches and held the girl's hand as we entered.We soon found that it was another of those.