His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Let’s go. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. I just want him, and no one else will do. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. ‘Do you think I would do to him as he made a threat to do to me? No.
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