Chapter 16 - Adventure On The High Seas
My time as pure Brandy quickly included solo outings. In the
morning I got up and shaved carefully, then Kelly laced me into a
corset and went about her own preparations. I took my time getting
dressed since I was on vacation, so I was still in corset and
stockings when she left. However, I proceeded through the entire
routine and didn't leave the bedroom until I was as beautiful as Kelly
had shown me I could be. The first few hours were spent in the house
since I wasn't entirely comfortable with going out on my own, but by
the middle of the day I decided I would try a solo trip and wondered
if I could get into the pickup in my short skirt. As I left the house
determined to try, I saw that Kelly had taken the pickup and left me
her Camaro. Smiling at her thoughtfulness and confidence in me, I
slid into the car, ran errands and shopped, smiling at the women and
flirting with the men. I had plenty of offers to carry groceries or
packages and could have had help all the way back to the house, if I
had wanted it. The cruise idea began to look better and better as my
confidence increased that I could sustain my new identity.
Kelly was going to dress as sensually as I did for the entire
trip so her outfits were selected to complement mine. This meant we
had to get a leather dress for me that was similar to hers, though not
so tight that it would leave a gap since I would always need to wear a
corset. Her ivory leather dress was the only outfit she would wear
without her own corset. Besides, by now she had lost enough weight
that the gap had narrowed considerably except at the top where her
bust held it open. We chose black for the color of my leather dress
and mine also had full shoulders since I couldn't match the cleavage
her bustier style displayed. While she wasn't looking I hid our ankle
restraints and handcuffs, including the chains and locks, in our
luggage but we were still packed and ready on the day of our flight
out and at the airport well ahead of time. The gate attendant looked
at our sky-high spiked heels and reminded us to take them off if for
any reason we had to leave the plane in a hurry. This admonition was
repeated by the flight attendant who took our tickets and again by the
flight attendant who assisted us as we settled into our seats.
"I guess they're serious," I smiled.
"Yes, but you better hope they don't suggest that women in
skirts pull them up to keep them clear of their legs, or you'll be in
real trouble."
"Nope," I disagreed, "these skirts you got for me are so short
they don't interfere with my legs at all. That's the idea, as I'm
sure everyone has noticed."
Our flight was uneventful and soon we were waiting for our
luggage at the baggage carousel in Vancouver airport. Kelly wandered
off to look for someone from the cruise ship line and I watched for
our bags. In the few minutes that Kelly was gone a burly outdoors
type with a full but neatly-trimmed beard offered to help me with my
bags. I smiled and described them, offering him our claim tickets.
Being a woman was a pretty good deal, once you had invested the time
and effort in looking good. We made idle conversation while we waited
and I found out that he was on his way to Alaska as well, returning
from vacation "in the lower 48." He said he had a fishing boat in the
harbor and would sail for Anchorage at first light.
"We're going on a cruise up that way ourselves," I explained.
"Perhaps we'll see your boat on the way. What do you call her?"
"She's the Captive Princess," he proudly declared.
"Oh, that sounds interesting," I mused, " is there a specific
namesake?"
"Not yet, I'm still looking," he grinned, a hint of invitation
in his eyes.
Just then Kelly came back with a steward from the ship in tow.
I quickly explained the situation to Kelly and she said the steward
would now take care of our baggage. My burly seaman grudgingly
surrendered our claim checks and waved as we moved to follow the
steward. As we sashayed away I flipped my hair over my shoulder and
looked back and waved, gratified to see his gaze had been fixed on the
orbit of my hips.
"I've still got it," I grinned to Kelly.
"You're terrible," she giggled. "That poor man is going to be
all alone on his tiny boat for days with nothing to do but think about
you. He'll probably run aground somewhere."
"From the look of his pants, he's already found some hard
rocks," I snickered.
From the airport we proceeded directly to the ship. Rather
than rush the departure of passengers who had gotten rooms in
Vancouver, the cruise ship departed at 2:00 Pacific time. Instead of
staying in Vancouver, though, we had decided to take advantage of the
time zone changes and fly out early on the same day we departed.
There was no lack of stewards to help us with our baggage and we were
soon unpacking in our cabin. The only items of clothing I had with me
which were not designed for women were the pouched thong underwear. I
wondered what the cleaning staff would think, but folded up they
didn't look much different than Kelly's matching attire. We were
still unpacking when we heard a knock at the door and I opened it to
find a steward with an envelope in his hands. The steward quietly
departed since the cruise directions had made it clear we would only
be expected to tip the staff at the end of the cruise, and I opened
the envelope.
"Well, well, well, look at this," I smiled as I handed the
envelope to Kelly.
"Invited to the Captain's table and we've only been on board
an hour," she gloated through her matching smile.
"It probably won't be as much fun as we would have at a
regular table," I complained. The Captain probably only invites rich
old farts and pretty girls to his table."
"You're not that rich," Kelly teased.
"Ooh, I laid myself open for that one," I grimaced.
We made our way on deck for a tour and to watch the ship
depart, deciding for once to wear deck shoes rather than our spiked
heels. Kelly was clearly in her element, bubbling at all the
activity, instantly friends with everyone on board. I had become
confident in my identity so I was relaxed as we strolled along, but I
knew I would never have her effervescence. The obvious cruise
director, all smile and clipboard, was standing by the gangway and we
moved over to her.
"Excuse me," I said to get her attention once her current
crisis had passed, "we've been invited to the Captain's table tonight
and I was wondering what we should wear."
She nodded to us and said, "I know, I arranged the invitation.
I watch out for those who look like they belong at the Captain's
table."
"Thank you," I smiled, "but we still don't know what to wear."
"Most ladies wear their nicest outfits, especially on the
first night," she explained.
"Who else have you invited?" I asked.
"That will be a surprise," she smiled, then turned as she was
called to handle another issue. She excused herself hurriedly and
moved off.
That evening as we prepared, Kelly laced me in extra tight.
Our dresses for the first night were similar to the style she had
chosen for my first party dress, with high collars and long sleeves,
and in honor of the first steps along our journey she had chosen
midnight and ice blue. The high collar did its typical job of
concealing my neck and our tight corsets allowed the shapely dresses
to flow smoothly but snugly to the floor. Kelly had arranged matching
slits on the outer thigh, mine on the right leg, and hers on the left.
In each case the slits were just high enough to reveal a small amount
of dark lace at the top of our stockings as we walked. Our shoes were
the original satin pumps she had prepared for us the first night of
Brandy's existence.
For the first time, Kelly decided to style my hair in an
upswept arrangement. She left selected curling tendrils hanging down
but caught the majority up in an enormous bow. It was a more elegant
look than Brandy had ever shown. She quickly developed a similar
style for herself, though it was not as difficult since she had so
much less hair. I looked at us in the mirror and then gave Kelly a
big hug, too overcome with the incredible transformations in our lives
to speak.
We gathered up our discreet clutch purses and made our way
toward the dining room. Though the staircases on the ship were broad
and gentle, I had not spent so much time carefully placing my feet
since I first learned to walk in heels. The wisdom of the slit in the
long dresses became apparent as I gathered mine up for about the tenth
time to keep it clear of my shoes. Finally, we reached the dining
room and I paused to settle my dress and pat my hair. I had become so
used to the liquid flow that the upswept style seemed unnatural.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Girl, I was born ready," Kelly laughed and stepped out across
the room.
I followed her with a grace I had never displayed as Ran. The
intense training in balance that the towering heels had forced on me,
along with the many subconscious signals from skirt and hair, had
given me an awareness of my body that I had not recognized until the
long dress highlighted it as I walked beside Kelly. I could see the
genius of Kelly's skill with cosmetics and clothes in any mirror and I
knew of the consciously exaggerated motions of hip I had learned.
However, the total impact on the dynamics of my body were only shown
by the sensuous waves rippling through the long dress.
At the Captain's table, we saw the cruise director smiling and
showing each invited guest where to sit. Though I hadn't thought
about it, I shouldn't have been surprised when Kelly and I were
separated by a couple of seats. She smiled her conspiratorial grin as
she moved to her place and left me standing alone to discover that my
place was at the left hand to the Captain's seat, for which I gave the
cruise director a small smile of thanks at her compliment. Gathering
my skirt, I seated myself carefully before the name card that read,
Miss Brandy Dewinter. Down the table at Kelly's seat, I could make
out her own, Mrs. Kelly Dewinter. Ah, I thought, the cruise director
wants the single girl next to the Captain. The seat on my left,
opposite the Captain's chair, had a name card reading, Peter Thornton,
which was sufficiently bland that it didn't tell me anything except
that it would be a man, as expected.
The lady across the table from me wore the jewels and gown of
conspicuous wealth, which I would have expected to be compensation for
a dumpy, matronly, appearance. I should have known better since the
cruise director clearly had made careful choices. While the woman was
older than me, a very well-preserved 50, she was hardly matronly. She
had the hard-edged intensity that Billie Jo had displayed just a few
weeks before and a figure that showed the same commitment to physical
fitness. I wondered if she had ever spent a few hours bound to a bed.
Her companion was also dressed expensively, in a dinner
jacket, massive gold watch and signet ring. However, he had the
softening features of a man who had given up on physical health and
was just drifting toward oblivion. The hard-edged woman looked at me,
appraised the value of my own gown and jewelry in an instant, and
decided that I was no threat. Her own self image clearly revolved
around money too much to worry about the competition from every young
woman she saw, unless she thought they were rich as well.
"Hello," she smiled with graciousness carefully tuned to her
perception of my station in life. "My name is Elaine Gardner, and
this is my husband, Henry."
I nodded and replied, "I'm Brandy Dewinter, and my
sister-in-law down the table there is Kelly."
"You know," I continued to her husband, "I haven't met many
Henrys, but you're the second one in a week. The other Henry told us
that friends called him Hunk, I mean Hank."
Kelly spluttered at my deliberate mistake, trying to keep from
laughing out loud.
Mrs. Gardner (for this is certainly how she would expect us to
refer to her) said, "I don't believe anyone has ever called Henry
either of those names."
Henry nodded, though whether he was trying to agree or whether
he was trying to say he actually had been called Hank was unclear, and
probably unimportant since the great lady had spoken on the issue.
Before we could complete introductions to the others at our
table, we were interrupted by the arrival from behind me of the
Captain and the mystery dinner guest seated to my left. They split
about my chair and I looked at the Captain first. While I don't
expect they have a lot of grumpy cruise ship captains, one doesn't get
to command with nothing more than simple geniality. Our Captain
Samson was somewhere in between, brisk and efficient, yet
good-natured. He was laughing as he sat down, responding to some
comment his companion had made as they approached. I turned to look
at the man, who had by this time seated himself, then I hiccuped to
hide my gasp. It was the burly fishing boat skipper I had met at the
airport! His piratical beard gave him a diabolical look, clearly at
odds with the elegant tuxedo he wore, but he smiled nonchalantly at me
as though there were nothing unusual.
"I thought you were going to be with your Captive Princess
tomorrow morning," I challenged.
"Oh, I just changed my mind. My crew can take the boat home.
I'll sail with this ship as far as Anchorage at least. Perhaps I'll
find a namesake for my boat onboard this one."
"Do you two know each other?" the Captain asked.
"Not really," the man whose name must have been Peter Thornton
replied. "We met briefly in the airport but she got a better offer,
and here's the better offer," he said as he turned to Kelly. He
introduced himself to her as though they had never seen each other,
but left me hanging without a further word. I couldn't tell what the
reasons were for his strange behavior, but his showing up sitting
between Kelly and I was clearly no coincidence. If he thought
pretending to ignore me was fooling anyone, we saw through that
immediately as well and I turned to the Captain to make my own
introduction. He told me his name was John, took my hand, capturing
the long red nails, and kissed it lightly. I could not believe the
shiver that went up my arm when he did that. I was going to have to
remember that trick, next time (if ever) I was Ran.
I was in no hurry to retrieve my hand, and he was in no
apparent hurry to release it, when the Lady Elaine offered her own
hand to the Captain. He smiled at me and let me go, turning to the
grand lady, then took her outthrust hand but must have irritated her
greatly when he just shook it and then let go. I realized that the
fisherman had turned to face the table again and was making his
introductions to the Gardners, so I turned back to him.
Once he finished, I said "Hello, Mr. . . um . . Thornton is
it?"
He smiled and said, "Please, call me Rocky."
"Indeed," I grinned, "I should have known. Did Kelly tell you
we were talking about you and rocks after we had to leave you at the
airport?"
"Why no, she didn't. What did you have to say?"
I ignored the daggers Kelly's look was throwing at me from
behind the fisherman, and continued. "She was worried that your
fishing boat might have difficulty with the rocky shores between
Vancouver and Anchorage and was concerned that you might run aground.
I told her I thought you looked like you were adequately familiar with
rocks."
Kelly breathed a sigh of relief at the censored form of our
conversation that I reported and the meal began. Though the menu was
the same at all tables, it did indeed seem that the Captain's table
received especially appetizing portions. Unfortunately, tightly bound
in my corset my stomach wouldn't accept much food so I was forced to
pick lightly at the wonderful meal.
"Is it not to your liking?" the Captain inquired.
"No, it's excellent," I assured him. "I just don't eat much.
I've recently been on a weight loss program and don't want to lose
what success I've had. In fact, my appetite has diminished as I got
used to smaller portions."
"You certainly don't look like you need to lose weight. If
your figure were any better half my waiters would be dropping trays."
"Thank you, Captain, you're a gentleman, but you wouldn't
believe what I've gone through to look like this." I smiled with
inward amusement as I caught Kelly's eye. Her strangled giggle
threatened to burst into hilarity at any instant.
"Why did you say you should have known my nickname was Rocky?"
the fisherman picked up the conversation from the other side.
"When I meet a big fisherman named Peter, a reference to the
Rock of the Church is obvious, I would think."
The great lady across the table interjected, "Interesting that
you should be familiar with the Bible. I wouldn't have guessed it
from something about the way you look."
Pretending to ignore the insult buried in her words, I gushed,
"Oh, Mrs. Gardner, you're right about that. I'm hardly angelic. But
Kelly truly is an angel and something must have rubbed off."
I was right that she thought it only appropriate that I
address her as Mrs. Gardner, but the attention the men were paying to
Kelly and I had moved the scale of maturity. It had been established
that we were adult women at the peak of desirability and my excessive
deference to her had transformed the distance she had placed between
us to one of age, not status. "Mrs. Gardner" made her entirely too
old.
"Please, call me Elaine," she directed through tight lips.
Rocky and the Captain were chuckling with amusement at this
exchange of insults and the conversation turned to other things.
Thankfully, the meal came to a close and we all excused ourselves.
For some reason the Captain drew Kelly aside and I found myself alone
with Rocky.
"I didn't think there were any cabins left on the ship," I
commented as we strolled to the rail to look at the water. The
typical North Pacific cloudiness had broken for a while and an
incredible number of stars twinkled above us. "How did you get aboard
with so little notice?"
"I know a few people," he replied cryptically.
I turned to lean my back against the rail and rested my arms
on it. "Then I suppose the next question should be, why did you
decide to get on board with so little planning?"
"I just seemed like it might be more interesting than a small
boat voyage," his smile as he said it indicated that we had crossed
into the "I know that you know that I know what you're really talking
about" sort of game.
Then, suddenly it was not a game anymore. Before I could
decide how to extract myself, his massive arms had surrounded me and
he was kissing me in the starlight. While I had thought that Hunk the
stripper was a good kisser, I found in Rocky's arms that I had no real
clue what kissing a woman was about, though I could never carry this
lesson forward to Kelly. I was no weakling for a man thanks to our
stringent exercise program, but the raw power in Rocky's embrace,
clearly held in check only through intense self-discipline was
overwhelming. I felt sheltered and safe, soft and feminine, in a way
that my clothes and hair and laughing style had never created, and I
found myself returning his kiss with a passion I had previously only
shown to Kelly. The hair of his beard tickled my face in a way that
reminded me of kissing Kelly as well, though it was her lower lips
that came to mind. Whatever strange thing was happening, it was
intensely exciting. After a few long moments, or a couple of hours, I
could never remember, he released me and stood back.
"I suppose I should say I'm sorry," he began.
"No," I interrupted, holding a finger to his lips. "The last
man who kissed me tried to say he was sorry, too. I don't know what
I'm doing wrong, but it must be something if men regret kissing me."
"My only regret is the lack of respect I might have shown, but
no woman as beautiful as you should go unkissed on a night like this.
If it's not against the law, it should be."
"I didn't seem to notice any disrespect," I smiled. "Of
course, I was distracted for a while there, you might have slipped
some in while I had my eyes closed. Are you always so law-abiding?"
An answering grin lit his own face. "It depends on the
temptation. I might stray from the straight and narrow with the right
incentive."
"And what would you consider the right incentive?" I asked
with an elegantly arched eyebrow.
"Oh, we'll think of something," he chuckled.
He bent to kiss me again, and I found myself responding to
him. I rationalized that I was only acting as Brandy should act, as
any young woman would act in the arms of such a massively handsome
man, but I knew my reactions were not acting out a part. I let my
arms flow around his neck and twirled my long nails in his hair. His
own response was to let a hand drift lower where it found my firmly
rounded ass below the level of my corset. He could clearly discern
the lack of ordinary panties through the thin material. His hand
explored more fully, finding the garters and the tops of my stockings,
and finally the thin band of my thong. My gown, makeup, and hairstyle
were all hallmarks of an attractive, fashionable woman, but they were
public messages, not out of place at the Captain's table. His
exploring scout had found a secret message of sensuality lurking where
only a lover could find it. His embrace tightened and he darted his
tongue deep into my mouth.
We were interrupted by a family strolling on the deck and he
stood back in embarrassment. I stood with my eyes still closed and
didn't move when he did except to let my hands trail down his chest as
his neck moved out of my embrace. We were both breathing hard by that
point and as I caught what little breath the tight corset allowed, I
slowly let my eyes open in a heavy-lidded smolder and then smiled at
him through long lashes.
"I think," I breathed softly, "that I have never been
respected like that in my life."
He laughed and caught my arm, turning to stroll along the
deck. "We need a more private place."
"Hmm," I mused dreamily, leaning my head against his powerful
shoulder, "I'm glad I'm not like Kelly. I'm much too likely to rush
in where angels fear to tread. Just how private did you intend to
get?" I knew, however, that I would have to find some way to refuse
to go further. I wondered what excuse a real woman would use to
maintain an impression of sensual willingness, but clearly make an
immediate increase in intimacy impossible. Excuse, that's the key.
What had women used for excuses? Headache? Too obvious. Husband?
Already disclaimed. Lover? I might have used that earlier, even
claiming Kelly was my interest (always stick with the truth if it
works). That wouldn't work any longer, though. The passion with
which I had returned his kisses showed that there was no one else on
my mind. I fell back on the one excuse I knew would reduce even the
most ardent suitor, if a gentleman, to embarrassed acceptance. After
a moment to make it clear that my initial impulse was to be more than
willing to go along with his invitation, I let a pout form on my
glossy lips.
"Oh, dear," I sighed sadly, "I'm afraid that I'm . . . um
. . . not going to be able to take you up on your so very
. . . interesting . . . suggestion."
"Why not?" he asked with a frown, his immediate suspicion that
I was a cruel tease.
I let a flush show on my cheeks. After all the heat I had
felt when I first became Brandy, I had plenty of memories to resurrect
anytime I needed a blush. "I . . . um . . . should have . . . . um
. . . . this is a bit indelicate . . . I should have checked my
personal calendar a bit better before we chose this particular week
for our cruise. I'm afraid this is not a good time for me. Now it's
my turn to be sorry you kissed me. I shouldn't have led you to
believe it was worth your time to come into the starlight with me."
Now he showed a blush of his own as he understood what I was
trying to say. The mysteries of Eve's curse would never be clear to
men, myself included, but I had been married long enough to know the
routine. It had the expected effect. The irritation he might have
felt at being teased was transformed into sympathy and a clear
resolution to be a gentleman. My rejection of his advance was not
personal, but forced on me as well as on him so he could not let it
get in the way of our friendship. To do otherwise would admit that he
was only interested in using me for sex and no gentleman would admit
that, especially if it were true. For some unspecified time that I
could stretch out at least for the length of the cruise, my "virtue"
was safe with him. But I flattered myself that the rocks were back in
his pants, though not as clear in the formal tuxedo as they had been
in his tight fisherman's jeans.
"Don't be silly," he smiled, though it looked a bit forced.
"You've done nothing wrong and it was definitely worth my time to come
out here with you. Privacy is not a requirement to enjoy your
company. I can still 'respect' you in public, it'll just be in
different ways."
He escorted me into the lounge where we found Kelly gaily
chatting with another of the inexhaustible supply of tall blond men
someone manufactured for her. We strolled over to her and were
introduced, though her friend's name didn't register with me. In his
eyes I suffered in comparison with the angelic Kelly, but I thought I
went rather well with the piratical Rocky. Kelly caught my eye and
made a motion as though to powder her nose so I nodded and we excused
ourselves from our escorts to find the nearby facilities.
We were barely through the door when Kelly challenged, "Where
did you go? What did you do?"
I grinned conspiratorially and answered, "He took me for a
walk in the starlight. And then he kissed me. Twice."
She laughed. "That silver tongue of yours is going to get you
into trouble, you shameless hussy! He didn't throw you overboard so
he must have enjoyed it. Why'd you come back inside?"
I told her about the excuse I had fabricated and she started
whooping in near hysterics. "I just thought you were terrible, but I
had no clue. You really have no shame at all. Did he fall for it?"
"Like a ton of bricks. For at least the length of the cruise,
he'll be a perfect gentleman, trying to make up for an indelicate and
premature suggestion, which of course was neither if I'd been who I'm
pretending to be."
"Do you know who he is?" Kelly asked.
"No, not other than what I told you," I answered. "Did you
find out something else."
"I'll say," she grinned. "That's why Captain Samson pulled me
to the side, Rocky asked the Captain to help him get you alone. Rocky
owns this ship, and two other cruise ships, and about a hundred
fishing boats. He build his fleet from scratch and still goes out
with one or another of his crews to see how things are going, not as a
passenger, but as a working crewman. That's why he's so strong and
fit. He could probably buy and sell that Gardner woman a dozen times
over."
"Rich, huh," I mused. "Now I'll have to be careful. I
figured we could have a good time for a few days, just without sex,
and that should be enough if he's as nice as he seems. If he's rich,
though, I'll have to find some way to keep him from spending a lot of
money on a fake romance."
"How fake is it?" Kelly asked, now giving me the arched
eyebrow treatment.
"Not as fake as I expected," I admitted. "I enjoyed the
kisses. He's big enough to make me feel delicate, which isn't easy.
It doesn't matter though, it's not going anywhere anyway. Besides,
I'm already involved with a beautiful blonde, much prettier than the
one you have waiting for you outside."
I reached out and tugged lightly at one of the golden tendrils
of hair framing her face and blew her a kiss. She laughed and turned
back to the mirror so we could complete our repairs. Still chuckling,
we finished and returned to the lounge to find our escorts trying to
appear casual in their boredom. They gallantly took our arms and
showed us the sights of the ship, stopping in at the nightclub, the
casino, and then for drinks in a quiet bar. I was wondering how to
gently disengage, when Kelly solved the problem with a yawn.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I really do enjoy your company,
but we got up about four AM local time, and it's been a long day."
Our men apologized in turn for keeping us up so late and
escorted us to our cabin. I winked at Kelly and then turned to Rocky
with my eyes closed and my shining lips raised. He obliged with a
goodnight kiss that started out tame but quickly built into another
breathless embrace. Once she saw what I was doing, Kelly offered
herself to her own tall blond and when I came up for air she was
looking over his shoulder at me with a twinkle in her eyes. I tried
to decide if I were jealous at the thought of my wife kissing another
man but was too confused by my own emotions to sort it out. I decided
I would at least act as though I didn't mind, as long as it didn't go
any further than I could go as Brandy. Probably that was selfish, but
there it was.
We entered our cabin and closed the door behind us. As soon
as it was shut, I collapsed onto the bunk and fanned myself with my
hand. "Whew!" I exclaimed, "if I could bottle that heat I could solve
the energy crisis."
Kelly pulled me to my feet and flowed into my arms, kissing me
with more passion than she had shared with the tall blond. I
responded to her kiss as strongly as I had to Rocky's, adding to my
confusion but confirming her desirability, to her and to myself. I
wondered what Rocky would think if he saw me in the arms of a
beautiful woman, kissing her deeply though I was dressed in an elegant
evening gown and towering satin pumps. If he thought I was a Lesbian,
would that shock him? Or since I had responded to him also, would
that interest him?
When Kelly stirred in our embrace, indicating she was ready to
be released, I looked at her quizzically. "Thank you, my love, and I
know there doesn't need to be, but was there a special reason for
that?"
"No," she giggled, "I just wanted to see if you had learned
anything new."
"Shameless, simply shameless," I shook my head, accusing her
as she had accused me.
"Right," she laughed, "ain't it great?"
