Even by the raucous standards of Bourbon Street, the crowd at the Voodoo Doll that Friday night was unusually noisy. New Orleans was full of good ol' boys from the Carolinas, Texas and Tennessee that weekend, what with the NCAA regional basketball finals being played in the Super Dome. And the National Assault Weapons Association was having its annual gun orgy at the Convention Center. It attracted an especially interesting breed of redneck.

So the crowd at the nightclub was excited. Most of whom had never seen anything remotely like the show there--except on tapes from the raunchier sorts of video stores back home.

The warm-up acts were a cute blonde stripper named Goldie whose specialty was tassle-twirling and a dark-haired, exotic looking snake handler named Zanna. They'd done reasonably good jobs, but the boys were clamoring for more -- more tits, more ass, more wriggling and more autoerotic stroking of pussies and buttocks.

The announcer, a midget with a surprisingly deep voice, called for a big round of applause as Zanna and her boa left the stage. Then, in a stage whisper, he said, "The next act is for the kinky members of our audience. All undercover cops and agents for the Christian Coalition are cordially invited to leave."

He shifted to full voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, assuming we have any of either in this crowd, Voodoo Doll proudly presents Beauties and the Bitch."

With that, the drummer in the trio at the far left of the stage did a roll, and into the spotlight stepped a stunning short-haired blonde in a black vinyl bikini. She was built like an athlete, with powerful shoulders and arms, a flat belly and a nice pair of knockers. A dragon tattoo ran down from her right shoulder almost to her elbow, and a rose was tattooed on her left breast, just above the nipple, which was barely covered by her vinyl cup.

She moved slowly and sensually to the rhythmic music of the trio and smiled lasciviously at the audience. Then she slipped both hands into her bikini panties and rubbed her pussy.

"It needs a lickin'" she called out. "It needs a lickin' real bad."

"How 'bout a fuckin' instead," called someone in the audience.

"That's nice, too," she said. "But it's a lickin' I want tonight, and I know just who can give it to me." Then she turned slightly and called out, "Lulu, where's my Lulu bitch? Bring me that lickin' bitch."

The drum rolled again, and a tall, handsome black woman in a hot pink garter belt came on stage, holding a silver chain. And at the end of that chain was a smaller woman, a girl really, wearing only a leather collar, to which the chain was attached, and a thin white cord that bound her wrists together behind her back. She was slender, dark-haired and oriental looking. And she had a small, lovely mouth with full lips, a mouth that every male at the Voodoo Doll was already imagining wrapped around his prick.

"Oh, Tanya, how kind of you to bring me my bitch," said the blonde.

"My pleasure, Carla," said the black woman. "And soon she will be your pleasure, too, won't you bitch?"

The girl named Lulu looked down and said, with a heavy Vietnamese accent, "I try please you both. I your sex slave and bitch."

Carla approached her and took the chain from Tanya. Then she moved quickly behind Lulu and pulled the chain, jerking her backward against Carla's well-endowed chest.

"Do you like the feel of my breasts against your back, bitch?" she asked.

"I like," said Lulu.

"Then turn around and give my tits a lickin', bitch."

Lulu turned to face Carla. She was nearly a head shorter, so she needed to bend only slightly to take Carla's left nipple into her mouth. She rolled her head back and forth as she sucked, and she wiggled her ass, which produced cries of encouragement from the audience.

"Suck it, baby," called one big young man in a North Carolina T-shirt. "Then come suck this."

Carla pushed Lulu away, then spun her around so she faced the audience. "This Lulu, she'll suck this whole crowd dry if you let her. She is such a little slut, but we love her."

"Now, kneel," commanded Carla. Lulu knelt. Carla bent, pulled her black panties down and stepped out of them. "Tanya," she called. Tanya came and stood behind her.

"Hold me, Tanya, while this bitch licks me."

Carla leaned back against Tanya, then spread her legs. "Lick it, bitch," she told the Vietnamese girl. "Lick it slow and nice."

Lulu gently nuzzled Carla's crotch with her nose and mouth, then began to lick her cunt. She closed her eyes as her tongue probed the recesses of the blonde's vagina.

Carla's eyes closed, too, and she began moaning loudly. Her pelvis began to gyrate, nearly knocking Lulu off balance. The crowd, which had gotten very quiet, began to show its appreciation with hoots and hollers.

"Oh, God, this is good," cried Carla. "This bitch is making me lose all control."

Indeed, she did seem to be having an orgasm, and when she suddenly pulled Lulu away from her crotch, the Vietnamese girl's face was covered with pussy juice.

"Goddam you, bitch," cried Carla, "you made me cum too soon. Now you must pay."

There was another drum roll, and Tanya, who had stepped off stage a moment, returned carrying a shiny silver rod about two feet long, attached to which was a thin leather strap.

"Oh, Tanya," said Carla theatrically, "you are just so thoughtful. A whip is just what we need."

She slipped the chain attached to Lulu's collar between her bound wrists, then pulled it up and through the collar ring again, so that Lulu's wrists were now forced up to the middle of her back, only a few inches below the collar. It looked painful, and Lulu grimaced. But it was all part of the act, of course. No one was actually going to get hurt.

A stagehand brought out what looked like an exercise bench with a red vinyl cushion. Carla forced Lulu face down on the cushion, so that her legs were straddling one end of the bench and her bare behind was exposed.

Carla turned to the audience and asked excitedly, "Shall we punish the bitch? Shall we whip her?

The crowd roared its approval. This is what they had come to Bourbon Street for, it was the kind of act you couldn't get back home at the honky-tonk bars that were more truck stop than strip club.

Carla snapped the whip twice in the air. It made a nice crack. Then she told Tanya, "Girl, you better hold this bitch, cuz she's going to go crazy when this whip starts caressing her ass."

With that, she brought the leather strap down on Lulu's behind with what seemed a mighty whack.

"Oh, oh," cried Lulu, "You hurt me."

Then Carla struck again, and again and again. Lulu continued to cry out. It was all phony, of course, but there were realistic looking welts on the Vietnamese girl's ass.

Finally, Carla said, "Now for something different."

She took the silver rod, but instead of using it was a whip, she probed Lulu's ass and pussy with the handle.

"You like?" asked Carla.

"I like better," said the girl. She was trying to keep up her part, but she sounded exhausted.

"You'll like this best of all," said Brenda, as she shoved the handle into the girl's vagina.

Lulu grimaced, then tried to look sexually excited.

Brenda pumped the handle in and out, turning to the audience and asking, "Any of you boys want to give it a try? My arm's getting tired."

A kid in baggy shorts and a loose denim shirt suddenly was elevated from the front row onto the stage by his buddies.

"What's your name, honey?" asked Brenda.

The young man blushed and said, "Sam."

"Okay, Sam," said Brenda, "you give it a try, but be gentle, okay?"

Sam took the rod gingerly and grinned a stupid, embarrassed grin.

"Go ahead, push it in," cried several in the audience.

"Shove it up to her fuckin' tonsils," yelled the big guy in the Tarheels T-shirt.

The kid slid the rod in and out with tentative movements, then got more confident and began pumping it hard. The girl let out a cry, and Brenda stepped in quickly and grabbed the whip.

"Okay, that's fine, Sam. Let's give this horny bastard a big hand."

There was scattered applause, but the crowd now wanted more excitement. They wanted rough stuff.

The folks who ran Voodoo Doll knew how to give them what they wanted -- safely, of course.

Brenda pulled Lulu up from the bench and held her tightly by the chain. She pushed Lulu to the edge of the stage, so that she was facing the audience, only a few feet from the boys at the closest tables.

"Isn't she lovely?" Brenda asked. "Wouldn't you just love to fuck her?"

The crowd yelled its assent.

"But Lulu's been a bad little bitch, so we have to correct her behavior. Do you want to see that?"

"More whipping?" yelled a boy at a front table.

"Oh, no, rougher than that," said Brenda.

Tanya appeared again, and Brenda turned Lulu so she was facing the black woman. The trio began playing an improvisation full of menace and suspense.

"She's a lyin' bitch, Tanya," shouted Brenda. "What do we do to lyin' bitches?"

"This," yelled Tanya, and she delivered a stage punch to Lulu's midsection, accompanied by the drum. Lulu gave out a loud groan and tried to double up.

"And this," said Tanya, with an uppercut that looked even more fake than the first punch. Lulu straightened up, her head snapped back, then fell forward. Brenda let her go, and she fell, much too gracefully, to the stage floor.

Everyone knew it was phony, yet it was tremendously arousing. The crowd was calling out for more, more beating, more punishment, more rough stuff.

Brenda, who wore black high heel shoes, kicked Lulu in the behind. Tanya, who like Lulu was barefoot, placed her right foot on Lulu's upturned face and ground it. Or seemed to. The boys nearest the stage could see the girl's nose and mouth distorted by the pressure and could hear her moans.

But it had to be an act.

The finale was approaching. The announcer, off stage, said, "Okay, boys and girls, only at the Voodoo Doll, only at the Voodoo Doll will you see a lovely little slut like Lulu snuffed before your very eyes."

Tanya pulled Lulu upright again, then held her from behind as Brenda slapped her hard across the face. Unlike the punches, this looked real. Lulu's head snapped to the right, and when she turned to face Brenda again, her left cheek was red.

Brenda was holding the whip again. She unscrewed the handle and pulled out what appeared to be a short sword. She waved its shining blade back and forth in front of the audience, then licked the sharp tip and smiled wickedly.

"Off the gook!" yelled someone in the audience.

Brenda frowned but went on with the act. She placed the tip of the blade against Lulu's throat, then drew it gently down her chest, circling first one breast, then the other and punctuating each motion by pressing the point into each nipple.

Lulu's eyes were closed now. If she was afraid, she didn't show it. If she was supposed to pretend to be afraid, she was beyond pretending. She seemed numb, hypnotized.

With a quick motion, Brenda slid the blade down Lulu's belly and between her legs. Lulu's eyes fluttered open. She seemed confused.

"Slice her open," came a cry from the audience.

The trio was building toward a dissonant crescendo as Brenda suddenly grabbed the girl by the hair and plunged the blade into her belly.

Lulu shrieked in pain, and blood, or what appeared to be blood, spurted from where the hilt of the sword was pressed against her belly, just below her navel.

Then Tanya let go Lulu's arms, and Brenda withdrew the sword. They stepped back, leaving Lulu alone in the spotlight. Her face was distorted with pain. Slowly, she sank to her knees.

She was only a few feet from the edge of the stage, and from the young men who now, stunned into silence, watched what appeared to be her death agony.

She collapsed sideways onto the floor and her body twitched wildly for several seconds. Then, nothing. No motion. No sound.

The tension was too much. "Is she dead?" someone in the audience called out.

"Sure, asshole, they're going to kill a slut in front of an audience," answered a voice from farther back.

"Who gives a fuck?" said the big guy from Carolina. "Either way, I want a piece of her."

Brenda lifted Lulu into her arms. The girl's head dangled limply, seemingly lifeless.

Then Tanya stepped forward to address the audience.

"All is not lost," she said, dramatically. "Our little Lulu can be saved, if you believe in her. Come on, everyone, say you believe. Say you believe she's alive."

There was nervous, confused laughter in the audience. Whatever the joke, they didn't get it.

"Okay," said Tanya with a sly grin. "Forget about believing. How 'bout imagining? How many of you guys can imagine fuckin' a dead girl?"

Several cries of "all right" and "right on."

"How many imagine Lulu reviving and sucking their dick the way she sucked Brenda's tits?"

A bigger and even more enthusiastic response.

"How many can imagine her fuckin' and suckin' her way through every team in the NCAA Regionals, with 50,000 fans at the Super Dome looking on?"

Lots of cheers and laughs now.

"Voila!" exclaimed Tanya, who stepped aside and pointed to Lulu and Brenda.

Lulu had, indeed, revived. She jumped from Brenda's arms and took a little bow. She was blushing with pride and embarrassment. She didn't understand this act. She didn't understand the noisy American audience. But she was well paid and shared an apartment with Brenda and Tanya. And she was safe.

"Thank you, sadists and gentlemen," said the announcer as the girls left the stage.

"This concludes tonight's show. Come back tomorrow to the Voodoo Doll, where magic always awaits you."

The crowd poured out into Bourbon Street, breaking into smaller clusters. One, consisting of the big man in the North Carolina T-shirt and two friends, wandered down a side street, headed nowhere in particular. The big one, called Loopy, was dissatisfied.

"It was a good show, I admit it," he said, "but I was looking for something more realistic."

"More realistic? You mean like actually beating the shit out of some girl? Like actually ripping her guts out?" asked Irv, a fellow Carolinian.

"They have shows like that here, if you have a lot of money and know the right people," said the third man, named Joe Joe. He was from Louisiana, but not New Orleans. He had grown up in Cajun country. He had met Loopy and Irv at a casino in Biloxi a few days earlier. They had hit it off well. And after Loopy hit a $3,500 slot machine jackpot and was ready to do some serious spending, Joe Joe had offered to be their guide in New Orleans.

They were staying at a cheap motel on Airline Highway. No sense spending your money on a room you only sleep at. Put the big money on good food, booze and entertainment.

The street they were on was dark and nearly deserted. There were no night spots in this direction. Joe Joe suggested they turn back and walk down Bourbon toward Jackson Square.

They didn't recognize the young woman approaching them until they were almost upon her. It was Lulu, the Vietnamese girl from the Voodoo Doll. She was wearing a white halter top and a short tan skirt.

"Hi ya, honey," said Irv.

She looked up, startled.

"Remember us," said Loopy. "We remember you. We was just at the Voodoo Doll and we really liked your act. 'Cept it just wasn't realistic enough."

She tried to pass them. Joe Joe moved in front of her. She turned to step into the street, but Irv grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the curb. The three men pushed her up against a brick wall. She was scared and started talking fast, mostly in Vietnamese but with an occasional word or phrase in English: "I no whore," "Call police," "You get trouble."

Then Loopy cut off the conversation by placing his big, meaty hand over her face. His hand was so big, and her delicate face so small, that his palm covered her mouth and nose while his fingers curled past her hairline.

She continued to try to speak, but only indecipherable sounds emerged. And when she tried to pry his hand loose, Irv slapped her hand away and told her, "Relax, bitch. Relax and let him do whatever he fuckin' wants."

She lowered her hands but left her arms bent, uncertain whether to try to protect herself or hope that passivity would save her. She was trembling violently.

"Too bad we can't get into this building and fuck her," Loopy said softly. "Maybe we can just bulldoze our way in."

With that he pulled the girl's head forward, then slammed it back against the bricks. The impact produced a surprisingly loud "crack," and a muffled cry from Lulu.

"Bricks are still there," Loopy said, as he again pulled her head forward. "Just have to try harder."

He slammed her head against the wall again, and this time her hands fell to her side and her body slumped. She would have fallen to the sidewalk if Loopy hadn't had his hand wrapped around her face.

"I think she's out," said Irv.

Loopy shifted his grip so that hand was now around her throat. Her lips were parted and her eyes nearly closed. Just a little white showed under the lids. He slid her head to the right, and they could see her blood on the bricks.

"This is fine," said Joe Joe impatiently, "but it's not helping us get her fucked, is it?"

Just then, a young couple came around the corner, laughing. They froze when they saw the three men and the Vietnamese girl.

Irv saved the day. "Shit, she's drunk, you're just going to have to carry her," he said to Loopy. He looked apologetically at the couple. "I know. Yahoos like us shouldn't be on the streets, even in New Orleans, but shit, this is our big vacation."

The couple walked past them quickly.

Loopy tossed the Vietnamese girl over his shoulder. "There's an alley over there," he said. "It looks dark and cozy."

He carried her across the street and into the alley. It was dark enough for their purposes, though it smelled of piss and beer.

They found a large wooden box, and Loopy dropped her face down on it. Irv tore away her skirt and pulled down her panties. Then he knelt and unzipped his pants.

"Okay if I go first?" he asked.

"Sure, Irv," said Loopy, "get her lathered up for Joe Joe and me."

Irv fucked her quickly, then collapsed on top of her. His cheek brushed against the back of her head and felt wet. Her head was still bleeding.

Joe Joe was next, but he shot his wad before he even entered her. Then he danced a little dance of frustration, repeating over and over, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

Loopy consoled him with a clumsy pat on the back, then turned his attention to the girl. He stripped away her top, then sat on the box and placed her, facing him, on his huge prick. He bounced her up and down on his shaft. Her tits jiggled. They looked appetizing, so he let her body bend backward, then leaned forward and took her left nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it, caressed it with his tongue, then bit down, hard.

She screamed and tried to sit up. Irv, standing beside them, punched her in the side of the face. Loopy grabbed the other tit in his mouth and bit this one even harder. When he removed his mouth, her breast was bleeding.

Finally he came, with a mighty groan. Then he lifted her off his prick and tossed her onto the slimy cobblestones like a used rubber.

They left her, unconscious and bloodied, and headed back to Bourbon Street. The night was still young.

When Lulu came to, she was lying face down in a foul-smelling puddle. She hurt but she couldn't tell where. It was as if her whole body had been transformed into a receptacle for pain.

From the street at the end of the alley she could hear laughter. She tried to call for help, but her voice failed her.

Slowly, using a wall for support, she managed to get upright. She was dizzy and nauseous, but she forced herself to begin the 20-yard trek to the street. It seemed an enormous distance, and twice she fell.

But she reached the street, just as a young man was walking past the alley. He did a double take. Here was a naked girl standing before him, reaching out to him. Clearly, she was in some sort of trouble.

He slipped a hand under each of her arms as she fell toward him.

"Hold on, honey," he said. "I've got you. Let me help you lie down, and I'll go get help. EMS, the police."

"No," said the girl in a weak but urgent voice. "No police. No INS. I okay. Just help me get home."

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and held her elbow with his other hand.

"Okay, no police. Now where do you live. It better not be far 'cause you aren't going to make it very far."

She guided him down the street, away from Bourbon and the crowds, then right.

"Here," she said. "I live here." They had stopped in front of a wooden door in an old brick building that was flush with the sidewalk.

Her knees buckled, and he thought, for an instant, how much he'd like to whip out his pecker and ask her for a blowjob. Her mouth was incredible.

He banished the thought and knocked at the door. Then he realized that whoever answered would assume he was responsible for this young woman being naked and bloodied.

"I can't stay," he said. "You'll be alright. I'm sure you'll be alright, but I can't stay."

He crossed the street almost running. Lulu, on her knees, leaned against the door. The wood felt cool to her cheek.

Then the door opened and she fell forward onto the tile floor of the vestibule. It was Brenda who had answered the door, and she gasped when she saw it was Lulu sprawled at her feet.

"Oh, Lulu honey, what'd they do to you? Who did this?"

She lifted Lulu, carried her into the sitting room and laid her on the couch. The TV was on, Brenda had been watching it, and a man and a woman were discussing vampirism. The woman had a beehive hairdo and too much eye makeup. It was a '60s horror movie.

Brenda got blankets and covered the girl. Then she brought in wet wash cloths and wiped her face and the back of her head. The cloths were quickly covered with blood.

"I've got to get you to a hospital," she told Lulu, but Lulu refused, became panicky and begged to stay where she was.

Brenda sighed. She couldn't tell how badly hurt Lulu was. She didn't know how to take care of someone with a head wound. Then the door opened and Tanya came in. Brenda felt relieved to have someone to share the responsibility of dealing with Lulu.

Tanya looked at the gash in the back of Lulu's head and listened to Lulu's disjointed account of what had happened to her. Then she interrupted, "I'm going for Madame Tiresias."

Madame Tiresias, a wizened crone who lived across the street, was reputed to know all about cures, as well as spells and curses. Her grandparents had come to Louisiana from Haiti, and Madame Tiresias had visited the island several times. She had nothing but contempt for the faux voodoo of the Marie Laveau wannabes that was marketed to the gullible by so many New Age charlatans in New Orleans. Her spells were the real thing. She was a skilled practitioner who took great pride in her work.

She hobbled into the apartment the three women shared, her eyes darting to every object in the room, seeming to show no special interest in Lulu, lying on the couch.

Brenda offered her a cup of tea or a glass of water. "Tea would be fine, child," said Madame T. "Tanya, where are the lizards you once kept as pets."

"In my bedroom, Madame," said Tanya. "I moved them there to keep me company."

"Bring them out here," Madame T. commanded. Then, finally showing interest in Lulu, she pulled up a cane rocking chair next to the couch.

"What happened to you, chérie?"

"She was raped by three men," Brenda said.

"Let the girl talk," said Madame T. "They beat you. Hurt your head. Did you scratch any of them? Is any of their flesh under your fingernails?"

"No," Lulu said softly. "I afraid to fight. They kill me."

"Yes, they probably would have. And you have no item of clothing from any of them?"

"No."

"When they raped you, did they ejaculate?"

Lulu looked puzzled. "Ejaculate?"

"Yes, did they -- never mind. I'm sure they did." Madame T. turned to Brenda. "Have you bathed or douched her?"

"No, I was going to, but Tanya came in, and we thought we'd better get help from you, pronto."

"Good. We will need cotton swabs, a teaspoon and a small bowl, and bring your lizards in here, Tanya."

Tanya and Brenda exchanged puzzled looks. Then Brenda shrugged and went into the bathroom to get a box of cotton balls.

Tanya went to get the terrarium with the anoles, small green lizards that most people erroneously called chameleons.

Madame Tiresias patted Lulu's knee and said, "You will survive, cherie. You will get stronger as the men who did this to you get sick and grow weaker and weaker. It is like a balance, a balance in the spirit world. When a great wrong is done, making it right hurts the transgressors and that hurt brings health to the one who was wronged. And if the one who was wronged was killed, the hurt to the transgressors helps her in the next life, the life most of us can't see but is all around."

Lulu had no idea what this small, dark woman was talking about. Her head hurt, she was very tired, so she lay back on the pillow and shut her eyes. She shivered under the light blanket.

Brenda came in with the cotton balls and a spoon, and Tanya followed with a glass terrarium. The bottom of it was covered with rose colored gravel, and there was a branch from a crepe myrtle tree. Two lizards were on the branch, another scurried, frightened, back and forth across the gravel. Tanya put the terrarium on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"What are you going to do?" asked Brenda.

"I'm going help our little friend by hurting those who hurt her. We must have something from them, something intimate to them, and the only thing from them is inside this child's body."

"You mean, their cum?" Tanya asked, her face wrinkling in an expression of disgust.

"Yes, their semen," said Madame T. "We must scoop it out with the spoon, then smear it on the cotton balls. We put it all in the bowl with this" -- at this point Madame T. took a small plastic packet full of gray powder from a pocket in her capacious skirt -- "and then mix it thoroughly. What do you feed your lizards, Tanya?"

"Meal worms, mostly."

"Bring them, too. We will cover the worms with the mixture, then feed them to the lizards."

"What will happen to the lizards?" asked Tanya.

"They will sicken and die," said Madame T. "There is no other way. If you do not accept my remedy, you must bring her to Charity Hospital, and maybe the American doctors can help her. But it will be an incomplete cure, because there will be no justice."

"Okay, Madame Tiresias," said Tanya. "We'll do as you say. I can always get more lizards. They're all over Audubon Park. I even see them in Jackson Square sometimes."

Lulu, who had been listening to this conversation with fading attention, suddenly revived.

"You kill these little animals?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid we must," said Madame T.

"No, no. I Buddhist. No kill animals. Wrong. Wrong."

Tanya stood tall and put her hands on her hips. Her voice was firm. "You ain't in Buddhaville anymore, honey. You're in New Orleans, and if you don't kill the animals, they'll kill you first. And the baddest of those animals are walking around this neighborhood on two legs."

Irv was the first to get sick. He woke up just before noon with a bad headache and stomach cramps. He thought it must be a hangover, but they hadn't drunk much the night before. What had they done? Oh, yeah. The Voodoo Doll and the quickie in the alley with the Vietnamese girl. Lulu.

Irv went to the bathroom and suddenly felt he was going to throw up. But it was just the dry heaves. He glanced in the mirror. He looked like shit.

He heard a groan from the bedroom. It was Loopy. He sounded as bad as Irv felt.

Then the motel room door opened and it was Joe Joe, carrying a big bag of doughnuts and a cup of coffee. He was about to say something cheerful, then he saw Irv's face and stopped. Then he looked at Loopy.

"Man, you guys look terrible," he said.

"I feel like I'm fucking dying," Loopy said, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. "Close the fucking door, the sunlight's killing me."

Neither Irv nor Loopy could eat. Both said they felt feverish. They stayed in the room all day, getting sicker and sicker. Joe Joe went to the drug store and returned with aspirin, antacid and a thermometer.

Irv's temperature was 102. Loopy's was half a degree higher.

"You got to see a doctor," Joe Joe said.