She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. “What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. “She’s all right.
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