”They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Roger put his now-empty glass on a small table beside his chair. He reddened once more.“Forgive me, ...istress Sandrine. I don’t know what came over me.”She laughed, but it was a friendly laugh.“No harm done, Roger. None at all.” She refrained from adding she had the same effect on other men and especially on boys.“Tell me a little about yourself, Roger. Are you from Oxford?”He told her about his family, his mother, his sisters, and how his father had. She was also boy crazy. That's not uncommon for eighth grade girls, but boys were about all Sandy could talk about. I mean, I don't have anything against boys. It's just that I don't like spending all my time talking about how cute this boy is or how nice that boy's butt is.I did hang around with Sandy a lot. I'd usually tune her out and think about something else when she started on one of her boy talks or when she started talking about who was going with whom. Most of the time she'd at least. More

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