" Yeah," said Bob, glumly. "Better off." In two weeks, three drunks had puked in the back of his patrol car and another one had puked ON him. Everybod... he pulled over was irate at him for molesting them. Everybody seemed to feel like they had an inalienable right to drive fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit, run red lights at their whim, and park wherever they felt like. He'd been called a communist, an agent of the Gestapo, a "fucking pig" and a "pig fucker." All in just two weeks. If. YOU!”Interrupted in his farewell thanks to his hostess, Quentin looked down. For him, it was a most superb moment and he simply couldn’t keep the smug smirk off his face.He looked at Madame Vesta, whose face was granite hard, and shrugged his shoulders.“The girl seems to have become quite devoted to me,” he said.“MASTER... MASTER... I’LL DO A-ANYTHING... TAKE ME... OH FOR P-PITY’S SAKE TAKE ME!”“Unforgivable behaviour,” said Madame Vesta.“Well... yes...”“MASTER... MASTER...” Julia was clasping. More

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