” “How could you!” She exclaimed. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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