We went to bed fairly soon after supper, and I did hold her close all night. Breathing in her scent more than made up for the ticklishness of her soft...hair on my face, and the dead arm in the morning, where she had been sleeping on it.(Even re-reading this in her diary, almost forty years later, makes us both excited again. I'll write some more later; we're just off upstairs for a wee while... )xxxxxxxEarly the next week, Dad forwarded to me, at Malcolm's address, the expected letter from Mr. Burt rode shotgun.One sixteen was crowded with cars heading north.“Oh God,” said Burt.“Ain’t it great.” Also not a question.“Missy? You’re what... 15?”“Pulleese... 16 ... almost 17.”“You don’t look it ... but ... you Are driving. What’s under the tarp in the box?”“Beer.”“Great ... just great. You know that’s the princess riding back there?”“She lowered the age of consent.”“When did she do that?”“Where did you go to college? Out of country?”“The states ... Fed A,” he confessed.“Why?”“I wanted a. More

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