He could scarcely blame her. This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. ” She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. Her small round breasts were vulnerable under her mostly nonfunctional Kmart bikini bra.
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