The Night-Cellar XVIII. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. She passed inside and upstairs without a word. At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. Well might she do so, Gerald thought in irritation. ‘You can if you like. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. Then she went into the office. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. When he came in her mouth, he was shocked when she swallowed his ejaculate.
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