His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. Wood the best of wives. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Lord above, had they wounded each other? But Melusine’s need was paramount with Gerald and he tried to shake off her clinging fingers. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon.
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