“Even choosing among what she has in the house would be an imposition.”“Y’know, that sounds silly when you know the situation. First of all, t... whom is it an imposition?”“Well, to both of you. I suppose to Mrs. Grant most of all.”“I don’t see how. She’s hired to cook. If I asked her for a particular meal, would it be an imposition?”“No,” she said, “but I don’t pay her.”“So, if I told her to cook what you want, that wouldn’t be an imposition on her. And I certainly would have if I had thought of. When she still did not come out, he began to sweat. He imagined her coming out naked. Her long black hair covering her tiny breasts and her hands cupping that delta of Venus he had so often dreamed of but never dared to actively pursue. They were friends. Good friends. This was both wrong and right at the same time.In the middle of his ruminations, she emerged from behind the door with a naughty look on her face. He shook his head.You were in there for a long time. I was thinking about. More

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