They are so involved with their hurts they do not see me go. Miss Corbin is not happy. She looks at me sideways as I enter. ‘Alright, beat me,’ sh... invites bitterly. I am indeed going to beat her. But not at her request. I survey her plight. My girls have, as usual, done an admirable job. Pettie’s wrists are still handcuffed behind her back. But a rope drags them up to the ceiling so that she stands on tiptoe, bent forward to ease the strain, helpless. But in pain. Rope on het wrists would be. "What do you know about Jepperson's wife?" I said.He laughed, and I could hear his chair creaking while he choked back his chuckles. "Oh, she's a beauty, a first-class, number-one beauty," he said.I told him that I knew that since I had seen her. "She an airhead, a bubble-brain, Valley-girl?" No, don't think so although some folks make her out to be; you know, that's the dumb blonde thing. Not really fair in her case." Okay," I said, unsatisfied with generalities. "What makes you think that?". More

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