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The wife's beginnings of exhibitionism in a movie theater.
Bess passed on the opposite side of the road, the figure stood silently, turning slowly to mark Bess' passage. As Bess walked by she watched the figure. Under the hood, drawn low over the figure's face, she could see only a dainty feminine chin and a small mouth smiling slightly as if in recognition.
Bess continued on toward the crossroads and tried not to trouble herself about the encounter. She glanced back to again take note of the solitary figure. To her surprise, the woman had quietly crossed the road and was now following. Bess doubled her pace, her mind pouring over what manner of being was behind her and what did she seek. As she reached the crossroads, she turned to look over her shoulder again and saw that the cloaked woman was gaining on her.
As she looked, she noted the woman's carriage was so smooth and graceful she seemed to float above the ground, and her step was so light she made not a sound. It filled Bess' heart with dread as the mysterious figure took on specter-like prowess. She hurried herself to a near trot, seeking the light and relative safety of the inn. Her imagination ran wild over the horrors and mystery of the dark. Each step she made became a struggle for her existence, every breath she took she feared to be her last. She broke into a full run, desperate to reach the inn. She felt as though claws and fangs were just inches behind her, ready to snatch away her life.
When she reached the lantern post in front of the inn she grasped it for support and protection and spun around to find the dark, phantom figure a mere 5 paces behind her, hovering in eerie silence amid the dim shadows.
"Who approaches? Speak thy bidding," blurted Bess, unable to bridle her waxing fear!
The cloak parted. One pale, delicate hand raised in admonition while the other drew back the hood. "Courage, gentle heart," said the woman in a soft, soothing voice. "I bear thee no malice." Her manner and diction were that of gentry or at least one who passed among them. The opened cloak revealed a bodice of intricately embroidered silk, trimmed with the finest of French lace. Coils of light golden locks framed the face of a fair, young maiden with skin white as cream and smooth as porcelain, and cheeks glowing in a soft kiss of rose. "I would speak with thee this night," she continued.
Bess' fear gave way to relief in the presence of so fine a lady. "Thy pardon, m' lady. 'tis the late hour trying on an old woman's mind," she offered in her common, cockney brogue and then curtseyed, as was requisite. "At thy service."
The young woman advanced a pace and coolly asked, "Art thou she who is named Bess, maid servant to The Lord Magistrate?"
"Aye, m' lady," Bess answered obligingly.
"'tis thy habit to greet the coach by the inn every eve," pressed the lady?
"Aye. I am here... every night," replied Bess. It was odd to be addressed so directly by a stranger but Bess deferred in light of the woman's obvious station.
"Thou art she who bade farewell to her love nigh on many years ago," continued the maiden, still advancing?
"Aye, again m' lady," Bess answered sadly.
"And thou art she who waits by the side of the road for his return these nigh on many years hence," asked the maiden?
"Aye, m' lady. How knowest thou my misfortunes," Bess asked with a sob?
"Thy tale of woe forebears thee. Be comforted," said the maiden, now standing toe to toe with Bess and placing a hand on her shoulder, "I bring thee a gift of great value."
"O grace, what gift could this tired old woman value," asked Bess in a sunken voice?
"A gift that would repair thy broken life. I would impart to thee a new life and lives many times fold," said the enchanting young lady, her voice rising to a disturbingly sinister mirth.
"I beg thy pardon m' lady but 'tis folly. Surely thou jests with me," said Bess, feeling uneasy with so strange a statement and the unnatural evil the notion implied.
"A gift of eternal life and beauty," persisted the maiden, her face now but inches from Bess'.