When he returned to Rachel
he thought he noticed the faintest pinky flush in her cheeks. And
suddenly she gave a deep sigh. He knelt again. There was something
about the line of her waist that, without any warning, seemed to him
ineffably tender, wistful, girlish, seductive. Her whole figure began
to exert the same charm over him. Even her frock, which nevertheless
was not even her second best, took on a quality that in its simplicity
bewitched him. He recalled her wonderful gesture as she lighted his
cigarette on the night when he first saw her in her kitchen; and his
memory of it thrilled him.... Rachel opened her eyes and sighed deeply
once more. He fanned her with a handkerchief drawn from his sleeve.
"Louis!" she murmured in a tired baby's voice, after a few moments.
He thought: "It's a good thing I didn't go out, and I'm glad Mrs.
Tarns isn't here blundering about."
"You're better?" he said mildly.
She raised her arms and clasped him, dragging him to her with a force
that was amazing under the circumstances. They kissed; their faces
were merged for a long time. Then she pushed him a little away, and,
guarding his shoulders with her hands, examined his face, and smiled
pathetically.
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