She didn't have a television back in Tijuana, and had only seen the dress on a billboard advertisement for a motel several years ago. It consisted of ... two-piece black satin dress - a top and a skirt - with a corset-like lace-up detail on the front, complete with a petticoat and white apron across the front of the skirt. There were a pair of pale white knee-high stockings, a black lace choker, tiara-like headpiece and white elbow-length 'eloquent' gloves. There was even a black bra and a. Seeing that it was just a bit of spilt milk, she began to walk towards the closet to retrieve the mop. "No, Mrs. C., don't use that. Use this," Greg quickly replied holding up a dish towel he had conveniently placed on the table next to the milk.Without even thinking about it, Mrs. Clark changed directions and walked over to the table to take the cloth from Greg's outstretched hands. If she hadn't had such a sleepless night last night, because her thoughts had been plagued with images from the. "My husband was not. Didn't hold with war at all, with killing."I told her my name and she said hers was Fran. "Francine actually," she said with a small laugh. "My mother rather favored the French. A Huguenot her father or grandfather was, I've forgotten which."We stood awkwardly in her back room. The house was quiet, and I assumed we were alone. She might have been twenty-five, perhaps even thirty, with a fine forehead, strong nose, and square chin; she was no delicate beauty, but a lovely. I walked over to her, took her in my arms and kissed her passionately. We held the kiss for a couple of minutes and then I stepped back a little as we broke the kiss. I reached up and started to unbutton her blouse. As each button opened I leaned forward and kissed the open spot. I started with her neck and moved slowly down her chest, between her little breasts, past her bra and down her tummy. When the last button was open I slipped her blouse off her shoulders and dropped it on her bed.I.