“Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. Almost had Martha won out. Her small round breasts were vulnerable under her mostly nonfunctional Kmart bikini bra. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. ‘Whereas my need was very great indeed. Then we can loiter and gossip to our heart’s content. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt.
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