The bevy of girls who entered the room were all barefoot; identically clad, in nothing but their simple Greek tunics. Short, and sheer white, these were sleeveless, one-piece affairs with a shallow curving neckline that dipped low in front and rose in narrowing shoulder straps to loop thin shoulders. Now they took their places, lining up standing at attention, as though presenting themselves for our approval. There were seven of them: Charli, Robin, Kitteridge, Nikki, Annie, Diane and Elsbeth.
The wide scoop neckline left bare the upper region of each smooth girlish chest; the loose bodice fell in soft folds, the thin material gathered at the waist to form the top of a pleated skirt -- a skirt so brief that the hemline rode not quite halfway down the lengths of the firm young thighs so pleasingly displayed. These were the seven girls whose progress I was to follow in the next few weeks, helping out whenever I could.