‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. . Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. I meant to give him a drubbing. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely.
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