The next day, when he delivered the Star to the Rogers’ home, the lady was standing on the porch so he walked up and handed her the paper.“Do you ...now the Sandersons?” she asked. “The folks next door.” She pointed.“Uh uh,” he said. “They don’t subscribe.”“Well she saw you out cutting my lawn, and she would like to talk to you about doing hers. She had a man but he got a better job or something. Anyhow, I told her I’d ask you.” She smiled.“Thanks, OK,” Rigby said and he walked to the neighbor’s. He’d asked her to check them for context and misspellings. He often used Em as an editor. She had, he said, an excellent eye for detail. Ambrose often sent her the text of essays or articles he’d completed for a final editorial check. She hadn’t known that he wrote porn until he’d sent her the file she was now reading with close attention. He’d told her he’d had a few ideas for stories in a new genre. Em read pornography herself, though she thought that Ambrose probably didn’t know this. It. More

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