<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/4474/fy1ijwqfvup45ew6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Peter Warcaof</span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">CGDA Benefactor</span></strong></div></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><em>Jehoshaphat!</em>  I was convinced, beyond all, that the Miss Silk arrival would remedy the situation, move Jaclyn to sanity, rather than fall into lascivious  . . . errr behavior.  <br/><br/><em>Oh my!</em>  <strong>“Not to over-worry Miss Silk.  The phone message, Jaclyn’s said she’d be back with us in a day, or two.”</strong> <br/><br/>I find that I’ve joined her for a drink.  I pull my phone out, <strong>“I’ll just text my brother to let him know . . . ”</strong>  The text technique may need a refresher.  <strong>“Well, I’ll assume he knows I’m fine.”</strong>  <br/><br/><strong>“Jaclyn mentioned Tutu.  Do you know who that is?”</strong> <br/><br/>I pat Miss Silk’s hand.  A rather nice, soft hand.  Gentle.  <br/></span>