Every dirt-poor farmer had dreams of one day owning their own mansion and being able to light a cigar with real money because they were so rich money ...as no longer a concern.Despite that lack of depth of character, I have to admit I admired and liked most of that crowd because they reminded me of home and my days on Wall Street when I labored in my windowless basement to make money for the “big boys” on the inside. Even the so-called “good” women from good families didn’t hesitate to bounce on. During the evening she often made eye contact with me and I thought they were sparkling, but the wine was probably making me think that.During the conversation Emma, as a school teacher was also off for the duration, and said she was going to re-wall paper her living room. As had happened so many times before mother spoke up and offered my services to help her.Emma protested she didn't need any help, but mother insisted saying it would give me something to do during the holidays. In a way I. Will they all expect second, third and fourth helpings in the days to come (oops)?I slowly submerged my head beneath the hot water before emerging again covered by the thick foam created by the bubble bath. I rinsed it off and grabbed a another huge towel to dry myself and then I put on one of the thick, soft, white dressing gowns provided by the hotel; I wrapped a hand towel around my head and picked up my Kindle and spread myself on the big settee in my lounge having packed cushions behind. .. real hard. She might've had 'em on her biceps, too. I couldn't see."Ms. Andrews has got a poker face to rival Mrs. Devers, but there was something about this look, like she'd tasted something bad."It had to have hurt like hell, to give her bruises like that," I went on.Ms. Andrews nodded reluctantly."And then I was still in the locker room when she came out of the shower. She had a towel over her head again, hiding most of her face again, sorta like Hadiya's scarf, and she had another one.