’ Gerald grinned. I wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India. He saw that she was tense. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. Spurlock slept on. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked.
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