Her arms hung slack.
He shuddered violently, clenching his teeth and fists hard to keep control.

Then he went forward to her.

He put one hand on her shoulder, the fingers of the other hand under her chin to raise her face.

A convulsed shiver ran through her, once, twice, at his touch.

She kept her head bent.
"Sorry!" he murmured, realising that his hands were very cold.
Then she looked up at him, frightened, like a thing that is afraid of death.
"My hands are so cold," he murmured.
"I like it," she whispered, closing her eyes.
The breath of her words were on his mouth.