Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a chair, her eyes closed. Mischief bubbled up in her. “We will try and make you happy, my dear, so that you may learn that lovemaking is perhaps a little more than your idea of a woman’s duty. “Wow. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. I may as well think. You can enjoy him and then drink him up.
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