"You
_are_ a beauty!" said he. "Go into the other room and get me a
cigarette."
She continued to look fixedly at him.
Without change of expression he said gently, "Do you want
another lesson in manners?"
She went to the door, opened it, entered the sitting-room. The
other two had pulled open a folding bed and were lying in it,
Jim's head on Maud's bosom, her arms round his neck. Both were
asleep. His black beard had grown out enough to give his face
a dirty and devilish expression. Maud looked far more youthful
and much prettier than when she was awake. Susan put a
cigarette between her lips, lit it, carried a box of cigarettes
and a stand of matches in to Freddie.
"Light one for me," said he.
She obeyed, held it to his lips.
"Kiss me, first."
Her pale lips compressed.
"Kiss me," he repeated, far down in his eyes the vicious gleam
of that boundlessly ferocious cruelty which is mothered not by
rage but by pleasure.
She kissed him on the cheek.
"On the lips," he commanded.
Their lips met, and it was to her as if a hot flame, terrible
yet thrilling, swept round and embraced her whole body.
"Do you love me?" he asked tenderly.
She was silent.
"You love me?" he asked commandingly.
"You can call it that if you like."
"I knew you would. I understand women. The way to make a
woman love is to make her afraid."
She gazed at him. "I am not afraid," she said.
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