Moira Wolfe drove home with a smile tinged with guilt.  What had happened to Juan the previous night was one of the most humiliating things a man could experience, and it was all her fault.  She'd demanded too much of him and he was, as he'd said himself, no longer young.  She'd let her enthusiasm take charge of her own judgment, and hurt a man whom she - loved.  She was certain now.  Moira had thought she'd never know the emotion again, but there it was, with all the carefree splendor of her youth, and if Juan lacked the vigor of those years, he more than compensated with his patience and fantastic skill.  She reached down and turned on her radio to an oldies FM channel, and for the remainder of her drive basked in the glow of the most pleasant of emotions, her memories of youthful happiness brought further to the fore by the sounds of the teenage ballads to which she'd danced thirty years before.