Now, thanks to clothes and make-up, I was a small, vivid thing. Then, one evening two weeks before I graduated from my course, there was a knock on m... door. Nobody visited me so I had a fair idea of who it was. I opened the door and there Andrew stood, wearing a suit and holding a drink. "Don't you look different," he said. His eyes went from warm to hot. I didn't invite him in. "You have my old dress if you want a flashback." "I burnt that thing." He looked me up and down. "They told me. Had it all been a dream? It had to be! It couldn’t have been real! Djinnis and bottles? That just wasn’t real? And afterwards? In his wildest days, back when he was still a teenaged cadet on leave from the Academy, he’d never been able to perform like he had in that ... dream? And no woman could ever be that perfect and eager. Shortly before dawn she had done the blink thing and conjured up a bottle. “Lamp oil, Master,” she had said, and then had knelt on the sheets and reached back to spread. More

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