He began to tell me something—and stopped. She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read. She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. For the present the desire to fly was gone. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood.
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