He looked at her. “Do you have clips here?” he asked her. She looked at him incredulously. “Clips?” she asked. “Those which you use to attac... clothes to the line.” “Yes,” she said. She lifted the curtain of the window from below and there on the window-sill Vasu saw lying some clips. He picked up two. She still watched him in confusion as he brought one clip close to her nipple. Then she knew what he had in mind. She bent her torso sideways to avoid him. “Aiyo, sar…,” she said, “what are you. The almond-shaped eyes were dark brown with long eyelashes, and her skin was like coffee with cream. Her hand when I had taken it was strong, with silk smooth skin and perfectly painted nails. This woman did not belong in this neighborhood, I realized. She wore jeans, a thick turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket that ended just above the belt on her jeans. On her feet, she wore boots with the jeans on the outside. “Do you live here?” I asked. “Right over there, third floor,” she. More

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