‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. 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.
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