She raised an eyebrow beforeturning to greet her father in English. 'Father, would you like to hear meplay? I have learned so much,' Sophia said in En...lish. 'Mademoiselle Sabineis a superb teacher.' Ifeigned disinterest as if I did not understand and shuffled through sheetmusic while they talked. 'Excellent,' her father boomed, moving closer. Iglanced at his belly straining against his waistcoat, stained with meat sauce.'Mademoiselle Sabine,' he said to me in his rough French, tilting his. In anticipation of thestorm my mother had bundled me and my brother up and taken us to hersister's house. My mother was always scared of storms, of any type, andfelt safer if we were somewhere besides our crappy little house.To this point in my life I had only dressed up in whatever dirtyclothes my mother had left in the hamper. A pair of panties, a bra,once in a while a pair of pantyhose had been the pinnacle of my dressup sessions. Only once had I had the opportunity to wear a slip andthen I. More

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