choking grief that spluttered and throbbed in the darkness.
'Oh Dirk, please. And she went into his bed. The sheets were warm and
moist where he had lain. She gathered him, held his hot body to her
bosom and began to rock him in her arms.
Her own loneliness at last overwhelmed her. Her voice took on a husky
quality as she whispered to him. She strained to him, her need growing
much greater than his.
One last convulsive sob and Dirk was silent. She felt the tension go
out of his back and out of his hard round buttocks that were pressed
into her stomach. Straining him even closer, her fingers moved down
across his cheek to caress his throat.
Dirk turned towards her, turning within the circle of her arms.
She felt his chest heave and subside as he sighed, and his voice
stifled with misery.
'He doesn't love me. He went away and left me.'
'I love you, Dirk,' she whispered. 'I love you, we all love you,
darling.' And she kissed his eyes and his cheeks and his mouth. The
taste of his tears was hot salt.
Dirk sighed again and bowed his head until it was on her bosom.
She felt his face nuzzling into the softness and her hands went to the
back of his head and drew it closer.
'Dirkie. Her voice dried up in the strange new heat within her. In
the morning Dirk woke slowly, but with a feeling of wonder. He lay a
while and thought about it, unable at first to place the formless
shimmering sense of well, being that possessed him.
Then he heard Mary moving about behind the partition of her cubicle.
The gurgle and splash of water poured from jug to basin, the rustle of'
cloth. Finally, the sound of her door, softly opened and closed, and
her steps moving away towards the kitchen.
The events of the previous evening came back to him, crisp and stark in
every detail. Not fully understood, but looming large to overshadow
all else in his mind.
He threw the sheets aside and lifted himself on both elbows, drew up
his nightshirt and contemplated his body as though he had never seen it
before.
He heard footsteps approaching. Quickly he covered himself, pulled the
bedclothes over and feigned sleep.
Mary came in quietly and placed a cup of coffee, with a rusk in the
saucer, on the bedside table.
Dirk opened his eyes and looked at her.
'You're awake,' she said.
'Yes.' 'Dirk , . . ' she started, and then she blushed. It mottled
the puckered skin of her cheeks , Her voice fell to a whisper, scratchy
with her shame. 'You mustn't ever tell anybody. You must forget about
. . . what happened.
Dirk did not reply.
'Promise me, Dirkie. Please promise me.'
He nodded slowly. Not trusting himself to speak, his throat filled
with a knowledge of domination over her.
