breast.
Ruth woke him a little Later, after they had slept and they sat facing
each other on the rug with the open hamper between them.
While Sean uncorked the wine she worked over the hamper with the
dedication of a priestess preparing a sacrifice. He watched her split
the bread rolls and fill them with salty, yellow butter, then open the
screw-topped jars of soused beans and pickled onions and beetroot. A
heart of young lettuce rustled crisply as she plucked its leaves into a
wooden bowl, and poured dressing over them.
Her hair, released from its braid, broke like a black wave over the
marble of her shoulders, then rippled and swung with the small
movements of her body. With the back of her hand she brushed it from
her forehead, then looked up at him and smiled.
'Don't stare. It's bad manners. ' She took the glass he offered her
and sipped the cool yellow wine, set it aside and went on to dismember
the fat-breasted chicken. Pretending to ignore his eyes upon her body,
she began to sing, softly, the love-song she had sung on the night of
the storm and shyly her breasts peeped at him through the black curtain
of her hair.
She wiped her fingers carefully on a linen napkin, took up the
wineglass again and with elbows on her knees leaned forward slightly
and returned his scrutiny with equal frankness.
'Eat,' she said.
'And you? 'In a little while. I want to watch You. Then he was
hungry.
'You eat the way you make love-as though tomorrow you die.
'I'm taking no chances.'
'You're covered with scars, like an Old tOm-Cat who fights too much,'
and she leaned forward and touched his chest with one finger.
-What happened there?'
-Leopard.
'And there?' She touched his arm.
'Knife.
'And there?' his wrist.
'Burst shotgun.'
She dropped her hand and caressed the fresh purple cicatrice that
twined around his leg like some grotesque parasitic vine.
'This one I know,' she whispered and her eyes were sad as she touched
it.
Quickly, to change her mood, he spoke.
'Now it's my turn to ask the questions.' He reached across and laid
his open hand upon her stomach where the first faint bulge pressed
warmly into his palm.
'What happened there?' he demanded, and she giggled before she
replied. 'Burst shotgun-or was it a cannon?'
When she had repacked the hamper she knelt beside him. He lay flat on
his back with a long black cheroot between his teeth.
'Have you had sufficient?' she asked.
'My God, yes,' and he sighed happily.
