l it as a falling, a dropping, a trickling, like sand from a bulb of glass. t dry, like sand. I am . I am running, like er, like ink.
I begin, like o shake.
Dont be frigc soo, so me, and my fleso rembling, rembling, from tc be frig it is sened. ill s catcips of ter against my face.
Do you see? s is easy, it is easy. t— to touch you.
to touch me?
Only touctering ouchis.
s up my nigill. ter: t, and slide, and in sliding seem, like o quicken and drao gat of t of my natural s I longed for o feel a longing so great, so s , and mount, and make me mad, or kill me. Yet ill. S you are! — to press. I catc makes ate, and t last she
giving of my fles. S ate noo me and puts my t s , so a rime, a quickening beat. Sc of me: soon I seem to be no ts at tering, bursting out of o . her voice is broken. You pearl.
I dont knoress . Ss back t. t is still deep, till black. Our breatill come fast, our s beat loud—faster, and louder, to me, in th echoes of our voices, our whispers and cries.
I cannot see after a moment s, akes it to and s speak. S is rising from . I reac up again, and lay it gently about her.
Everyto myself, is couc back my flesill feel ill feel ing my gaze. I tell ;I meant to c you. I cannot c you no. e can make it ours.quot;—e can make it ours, I t up entirely. I need only escape from Briar: she can
—s o London, find money for ourselves . . .
So I calculate and plan, s , oget move a er. I rise up from my pillo: s, still , from the pressing of her hand.
You pearl, she said.
ts my gaze. My leaps hin me.
She looks away.
I t first. I tly about taking out my petticoats and goand, so s, s. And by seems to me t so groc seems queer in reflection, crooked and o my keeps ime on ain hink, She is ashamed.
So then, I speak.
a tly. Didnt I?
ter. You did, she answers. No dreams.
No dreams, save one, I say. But t one. I t, Sue . . .