I dropped my pants and boxers.“Back toward me, boy.”The beam of a flashlight pierced the air and jumped around until I saw it no more, indicating ...t was illuminating my ass.“Now, answer some questions.”The hermit carried me through a list of questions, the same kind Andy had asked that first day when I met her. The questions were to confirm my correct identity. I answered all of them.“Mary, you answer a question,” the hermit said. “Is this Dave Wilson, Bert’s son?”“Yes, Hermit,” she. I did not fancy a Saturday shopping for one and then the lonely weekend that lay ahead of me.I had been reading an article in the Evening Standard about how the police were warning about the increasing numbers of young girls sometimes as young as thirteen or fourteen coming to the city from the provinces without money, looking for work or perhaps running away from unhappy homes looking for a job. Many of these girls were picked up at railway stations by unscrupulous men who by various methods,. More

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