’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. ” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. CHAPTER II. ‘Gerald had to change both shirt and breeches.
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