"Is what we do dirty, Uncle Bob?" Jill had asked."Sweety, there are some folks who would call it dirty or wrong. Most people don't do it the way we do... I suppose. But what we do is between us, and I don't think it's anybody else's business. If you don't like it anymore, then we'll stop."She'd said she didn't want to stop. She liked what they did. And they agreed then that no one would be told anything about it in the future, and it would be just between them. After that, however, sometimes Jill. It was these heels. I'm still not used tothem." No, it was all my fault. Sorry, I shouldn't have bumped into you."I stooped to retrieve her bag. It was leather, with a gold chain shoulderstrap. The heels were spikes on leather boots that came to just above herknees. Her tartan skirt below a black long-sleeved jumper would have said'private girls school' - if it weren't for the boots. She brushed herlong mousy hair away from her face as she took the bag from me."Thank - "As she looked at me. More

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