Quicksand
heavy arm. An instant‘s flashing vision it had been and it was gone at once. Escaped in the aching of her own senses and the sudden disturbing fear that she herself had perhaps missed the supreme secret of life.
After all, there was nothing to hold her back. Nobody to care. She stopped sharply, shocked at what she was on the verge of considering. Appalled at where it might lead her.
The man—what was his name?—thinking that she was almost about to fall again, had reached out his arms to her. Helga Crane had deliberately stopped thinking. She had only. smiled, a faint provocative smile, and pressed her fingers deep into his arms until a wild look had come into his slightly bloodshot eyes.
The next morning she lay for a long while, scarcely breathing, while she reviewed the happenings of the night before. Curious. She couldn‘t be sure that it wasn‘t religion that had made her feel so utterly different from dreadful yesterday. And gradually she became a
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