” He smiled and lowered his head, clearing his throat before meeting her gaze again. “Pain is pleasure and I have worn dresses for sport. I don...��t think that it would bother me. At all.” He stopped to gauge her reaction. Finding none, he continued. “And I think I would rather enjoy it.” Her eyes picked up a dark glee and her lips parted in an expression much like a little girl given a new doll on her birthday. “You should bring your drink and come with me.” She rose from the table and. We have a few questions, if you don't mind?" Am I suspected of something?" No, of course not. But we do suspect something fishy is going on. Have you had any arguments or disagreements with anyone lately? Is anyone mad at you or holding a grudge?" Not that I know off. Was that mechanic right? Is someone setting me up? Could I have been killed?" Well Mister Evans, someone was definitely hoping to cause you bodily harm and maybe death. It was strictly an amateur job, however, I don't think you. One session was dedicated to practicing curtsying. Mrs Danbury had brought another mannequin figure into the servant’s hall and each of us were required to walk up and curtsy to it while she critiqued our performance.“No, Meakin bend you leg and raise the hem of your skirt at the same time. And lower your head. It’s supposed to be a sign of respect, of acceptance of your lower status. You’re not supposed to be grinning like some idiot. Bryony? Heavens sake! That was even worse!”She kept us at. Ohhh-uhh.A knock came at the door and Bud closed his robes and walked out of his sterile bathroom. Bud had lived in Boward/North Boward Gardens for three years but never really made any friends. Two of his neighbors, Shirley and Mark, were at the door. Shirley, an 64 year-old jewish widow, having lost like Bud. Mark was fit for 76, with thick white hair on his head. He invited them in and sat down with them in the living room, nervous. Bud didn't like well-wishers, especially when he is in his.