these old gals - West and Dietrich, still flashing tits and legs, hell t don-t make sense, they were doing that when I was 6 years old." "nuttin-. stretchers, girdles, powder, lights, false flesh cover- ings, padding, pudding, straw, horseshit, they could make your grandmother look like a 16 year old." "my grandmother-s dead." "they could still do it." "yeah, yeah, I guess you-re right." Bagley walked toward the wringer. just a quarter turn now. can I trust you?" "you-re my partner, ain-t you, Bag?" "sure, Dan." "how long we been in business together?" "25 years." "so, o.k., when I say a QUARTER-TURN, I mean a QUAR- TER-TURN." "whatta I do?" "just slip your hands in the rollers, it-s like a washing ma- chine." "in there?" "yeah, here we go! whoopee!" "hey, man, remember, just a quarter of a turn." "sure, Bag, don-t you trust me?" "I gotta now." "you know, I been fucking your wife on the sly." "you rotten son of a bitch! I-ll kill you!" Danforth left the machine running, sat down behind Bagley-s desk, lit a cigarette. he hummed a little tune, "lucky lucky me, I can live in luxury, because I-ve got a pocket full of dreams-I-ve got a pocketful of dreams-" he got up and walked over to the machine and Bagley. you said a quarter-turn," said Bagley. it-s been a turn and a half." "don-t you trust me?" "more than ever, somehow." "still, I been fucking your wife on the sly." "well, I guess it-s all right. I get tired of fucking her. every man gets tired of fucking his own wife." "but I want you to want me to fuck your wife." "well, I don-t care but I don-t know if I exactly want you to." "I-ll be back in about 5 minutes." Danforth went back, sat in Bagley-s swivel chair, put his feet up on the desk and waited. he liked to sing. he sang songs: "I got plenty of nuthin- and nuthin-s plenty for me.