His nail dug twice. My hips flinched. "Keep still!" He expected to find the place, right away.He had warned me to let him. I couldn't speak, but I had...to help him, or I would get cut or worse. So I sent my hand below his and inserted a finger into my puss hole. It was dry, but I managed with less pain than his scraping nail. I hummed then, to encourage him. My face burned with shame."I said, Let me, Ma." My son was gruff, but his eyes cleared, as if a veil had lifted. His finger sought to. The good man sat up in the bed with the sign of fright etched on his face. Off course, Marsha heard it and pretended deep sleep.After a while, Abner, standing shiveringly outside in the windy freezing weather, knocked again a bit louder followed by an equally loud cooing sound. Horace began wondering what it was, nudged his wife with a shaking hand, and said.“Marsha, Martha do you hear what I hear? I think someone or may be more are trying to enter our house. Brigands, I. More

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