"Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. She felt the thrill race through her body. Only she hadn’t. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. He suckled at her shoulder blade as he slid her panties down. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her.
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