His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. Then it dawned. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. For the sort of love-making you think about. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. You might be able to use the picture some day. There is strength in you— misguided.
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