fever football

[Dob Wyatt]

There was hay in the loft of the barn, crushed oats in the bin . She had no doubt been pretty, with theprettiness of youth .
It was chilly in the house, the season being still early. Even though she might not hold itagainst him that he had left her for ten years or more .
As soon as the view openedup, he stopped and stood.
For a week he pondered the question, musing, probing himself,probing her