"An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. . She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse.
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