He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. Now you're up, take this spike. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it.
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