He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. Traci was the most grateful, because he stopped his sexual advances. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point.
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