He guided himself between her legs. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. " "Let me see it," cried Thames, snatching it from him. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. Things seem to come rather easily. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. She walked back to the car. Or felt it. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately.
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