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“Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. His body went limp, and as he withdrew she ironically found herself at the doorway for the first time in her life of being truly aroused. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. "She has fallen into the villain's hands. I do forgive him; but he will never know now.
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