That boy," he added, looking at Thames, "has his eye upon us. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. But one must disguise oneself. Other things came. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. Then a light seemed to break in upon him.
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