‘Ron,’ she said. ‘We’ve worked together for a while. So you know me well enough to recognize when I’m doing you a favor.’ I just looked at...her, quite puzzled and unable to hazard the slightest guess what was coming next. ‘Let me not spell it out here, Ron,’ she continued, meeting my gaze head on. ‘Better you come to my place tonight. Here’s the address, see you at 7.’ And therewith I was dismissed! Total bewilderment. What does one do? What could this be about? It certainly did not sound like. On the tops of my feet. I lowered my head a little and saw that my feet were encased in two ballet shoes, not knee-high boots but booties, perfectly new in hard leather. My insteps were not normal but they were a STRAIGHT LINE as if they had a ruler inside that could not be bent and my toes and especially my nails seemed like crashing, as if a ballet dancer had her feet like this but for hours. My feet, my insteps and my fingers were in constant pain, which did not decrease or increase but was. More

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