Leslie was balanced on the hard cushion of an an-<br >tique chair designed for someone with a three-cornered<br >behind. In front of her， too close， Hennessy straddled a<br >chair backwards and loomed over her， telling loud ante-<br >dotes intended as far as she could guess as advertise-<br >ments. "The minute Ted left the room， she walked over<br >to me and stood there， just looking me up and down. Pro-<br >vocative. I could see she wasn t wearing a bra."<br > "Lots of women don t，" Leslie said between stiffening<br >lips. "It isn t mean to be provocative." She slumped for-<br >ward. She too was not wearing a bra. Was that what had<br >pinned him to her of all the women milling around this<br >apartment? Some flaw， see you were asking for it.<br > "Listen， she knew. Then she leaned way over with her<br >tits sticking in my face and she said"mhe attempted to<br >copy a languid expression， lifting one beefy shoulder~<br >"she said， M~rlc， arc you a good lay? Ju6t ling k!..o<br >pau~ed for reaetlon.<br > She stared at him， she hoped impassively. He had an<br >almost handsome craggy face spoiled by a too square， too<br >heavy jaw and an expression that was a perennial pout.<br >His body， the upper part of his face seemed older than he<br >was--a second-year graduate student like herself--while<br >the lower half of his face seemed trapped in sulky early<br >adolescence. If she said nothing， nothing at all， he might<br >go away.<br >