her heels, and her rounded
beautiful back was towards him, and her face was hidden. She was warming
her body at the fire for consolation. The glow was rosy on one side, the
shadow was dark and warm on the other. Her arms hung slack.

He shuddered violently, clenching his teeth and fists hard to keep
control. Then he went forward to her. He put one hand on her shoulder,
the fingers of the other hand under her chin to raise her face. A
convulsed shiver ran through her, once, twice, at his touch. She kept
her head bent.

"Sorry!" he murmured, realising that his hands were very cold.

Then she looked up at him, frightened, like a thing that is afraid of
death.

"My hands are so cold," he murmured.

"I like it," she whispered, closing her eyes.

The breath of her words were on his mouth. Her arms clasped his knees.
The cord of his sleeping-suit dangled against her and made her shiver.
As the warmth went into him, his shuddering became less.

At length, unable to stand so any more, he raised her, and she buried
her head on his shoulder. His hands went over her slowly with an
infinite tenderness of caress. She clung close to him, trying to hide
herself against him. He clasped her very fast. Then at last she looked
at him, mute, imploring, looking to see if she must be ashamed.

His eyes were dark, very deep, and very quiet. It was as if her beauty
and his taking it hurt him, made him sorrowful. He looked at her with a
little pain, and was afraid. He was so humble before her. She kissed him
fervently on the eyes, first one, then the other, and she folded herself
to him. She gave herself. He held her fast. It was a moment intense
almost to agony.

She stood letting him adore her and tremble with joy of her. It healed
her hurt pride. It healed her; it made her glad. It made her feel erect
and proud again. Her pride had been wounded inside her. She had been
cheapened. Now she radiated with joy and pride again. It was her
restoration and her recognition.

Then he looked at her, his face radiant. They laughed to each other,
and he strained her to his chest. The seconds ticked off, the minutes
passed, and still the two stood clasped rigid together, mouth to mouth,
like a statue in one block.

But again his fingers went seeking over her, restless, wandering,
dissatisfied. The hot blood came up wave upon wave. She laid her head on
his shoulder.

"Come you to my room," he murmured.

She looked at him and shook her head