"Get out," David said, "or I'll call the police."

"You poke your finger in that dial," Jody said sharply, "and that's when I start screaming rape. Every dirty mind in town will believe me. Oh, I'll make it good. I'll say you made me do it because you'd bought me clothes and gave me money to get out of town. I'll rip up my slip and bra and pants and it'll look as though we had a real party-party what with your wife and child away..."

For a moment, David thought he was going to be sick. "The poor kid" he had tried to help, "the little lost girl," was a foul-mouthed, vicious woman holding a whip over him.

And he was stuck with her.