“He had been considered a bit of a raconteur in college, so he began to tell her stories about how much trouble he’d gotten into there, trying to make her laugh, which she did only very occasionally, although he had a bit of a sense that she was stifling it sometimes, or something about what had made her so somber was doing it for her. They had been travelling for nearly two weeks now, keeping to the back roads that were barely more than paths once they hit civilization, skirting all cities ...until they came to New Orleans. Then he brought her into the heart of the city, to places where he knew she would be safe so that he could get the lay of the land and approach his father. The place he’d brought her to—on the distinctly wrong side of the tracks—was what he blithely referred to as a bordello. Rachel barely knew what one was, although she got the gist not long after entering. She’d never seen so many other women in various states of undress! It was quite elaborately decorated in shades of red and gold with the occasional splash of white, and the ample bosomed proprietor seemed to know him quite well, literally clutching him to her bosom for some time until he fought his way out quite valiantly.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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