Then, even as she felt the heave of his great body, panting at the touch of her, mad at the scent of her hair, he put her back from him with a sob, a groan.

As when the knife had begun its work, his scarred fingers caught her white arms.

He bent over, afraid to look into her eyes, afraid to ask if her throat panted too, afraid to risk the red curve of her lips, so close now to his, so sure to ruin him.

He bent and kissed her hands, his lips hot on them; and so left her trembling.
[Illustration: He bent and kissed her hands.].