The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. " "I hope they are, Sir," answered Mrs. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. Sheppard, faintly.
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