woman. With one hand holding her breasts to her, she snatches the towel and attempts to cover herself.  The only problem is the towel is the size of a washcloth and is so threadbare, a used napkin would cover her more thoroughly.  On the verge of exasperated hysteria, Amy clutches the towel to her chest and rubs her legs to bring some warmth to her body. 

The woman working on her husband climbs down and pokes his back to wake him up from his peaceful naptime.  With a shudder, he blinks his eyes open and grins when he sees Amy mostly naked sitting across from him with a postage-stamp sized towel in covering her not-so-small breasts.  The slapping on Nick’s cot and the clapping her hands means for him to hurry and sit up, or so Amy deduces. 

“...

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