Got any in stock there, my good woman?”“Afraid not, wrong store, wrong century, we’re all out of spats. We sold the last pair we had sixty years...ago, to Fred Astaire, I believe.”“Ah, damn my luck. Well, Fred probably needed them more than me.”She walked over and leaned back against a table full of kitchenware, her arms folded across her chest. Her lips were pressed tightly together in an obvious attempt to suppress a smile. Tonight there was none of the sadness on her face that he’d seem on. She gives me some last minute suggestions.When our time comes, I take a deep breath and clip the leash into Mark’s collar. He had already checked his coat at the door. I lead him to the stage. There is already a big crowd. I was hoping that since we had an early time, there would only be a sparse crowd. I pull Mark’s wrist and ankle cuffs from my bag, and have him attach them. While he’s doing this, I bring out a light flogger, two heavy floggers and my dragon flogger. I hang them on a rack. More

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