She took one loaf of the bread in her free right hand and passed it to her left to eat. "A peasant woman has agreed to raise thy daughter," he said."T...ese," she gestured towards her breasts, "are full. It is past time to feed Catherine." The woman has milk. She lost her son recently." That solves Catherine's problem; it does not solve mine."He'd seen her feed her babe, someone had to watch whenever she was not alone. He remembered that fullness, that roundness. He remembered, too, seeing her. What was I doing? This had to stop. My nylon fetish had gone far enough; hell, it's most likely going to lose me my job and I'd be having to start again, seek a new firm and start from the bottom rung. I felt sick and more worried than ever. I drained a few more beers and started on the vodka until it was starting to get late. Taking myself off to bed, I passed out and had a full night's drunken slumber only to wake Saturday morning to a hangover and the realisation that my problem hadn't gone. More

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