Sob after sob escaped past the hand she pressed over her mouth. Even now, at the rock bottom of her humiliation, Emma couldn't risk letting her family...know how she felt. This had been the worst day of her life.It took several long minutes and a deep breathing exercise before Emma was about to stand and walk to her desk by the window. The last light of the setting sun was just visible above the suburban tree tops. Emma slumped down in the broken wooden chair her dad kept promising to fix, but. The men of the patriarchal society from whence she sprang were far less indulgent to those of her sex. In the culture she had been born to flattery of the beast was learned at the breast and seen as imperative if a female of lower social standing wished to climb even a few rungs on the ladder.Of any standing, actually.Such a girl had been Samira when she had served drinks to the ?Big important man? from London. Yet here he was -both metaphorically and in real terms- prone before those pretty. More

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