She worked at the Follies Bar and everybody knew her.
The men lusted for the lady. While lined up at the bar, they spied her rounded bottom as she bent over to pick up a dollar flung to the floor by an enterprising fellow. They also enjoyed her bouncing bosom, where she always wore a tiny bouquet pinned to her dress in the middle of the bodice, advertising her ample cleavage. When she hurried to clear glasses from the bar, the flowers and more jiggled with each movement.
The women hated her, and none was more critical than Mrs. Anna May Hopkins who ranted every Tuesday night at the sewing circle. Her husband, Edward, spent most evenings at the Follies, so that didn't help.
"Such a slut! Wearing those plunging necklines, and bending at the waist--in front of a mirror yet! All the men have to do is watch her bottom bouncing around in the glass. And it doesn't even look like they're staring directly at her. How convenient! I think she put that mirror there on purpose. That lady is no strangers to mirrors, I might add...especially in the boudoir, I'll bet. Humph!"
"Anna May, don't be so hard on her. She only works that job because she has a little boy to provide for." Elisabeth Townsend stepped back as soon as she uttered the words. The hateful glare coming from Anna May Hopkins frightened her.
"It's no wonder she has a child to provide for. I'm surprised she doesn't have a dozen bastard children...two dozen!" Anna's face flushed a vibrant red.
"Calm down, honey! I don't know why you're getting so excited. What is she to you anyway?" Lily Pratt handed Anna May a fresh spool of red thread.
"She's nothing to me!" Anna May forced out the words, more a hiss than a sentence.
She's only had a son by Edward. That's all!