Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. ‘Very wise,’ commented Gerald. “Come on in, Michelle. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. 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. Never had he been so intrigued. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. I heard John was talking about you again from Jenny McIntyre.
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