CHAPTER EIGHT
Priscilla had taken a long, long walk along the nearby bay. It had been a clear night, and she had walked slowly, seeing couples sitting on benches under the nearby trees, clutching one another, kissing. Once, she would have envied them. But not now. Not at all. No, she didn't need a boy friend to kiss her and touch her and get her all heated up, then not do anything more for fear of corrupting her. No, when she finally married her man, whoever he might be, he would have f****d her innumerable times, and the last time would be better than each time before.
She didn't notice the white-haired hulk of Herman Horowitz stalking behind her. Not that there was anything Herman could have done, even if he'd had enough courage. There were too many people and too many police booths st
