“Shall I let her out?” said Siegmund.
“Do!” said Helena, slipping from his knee. “She goes out when the nights are fine.”
Siegmund rose to set free the tabby. Hearing the front door open, Mrs. Curtiss called from upstairs:
“Is that you, dear?”
“I have just let Kitty out,” said Siegmund.
“Ah, thank you. Good-night!” They heard the old lady lock her bedroom door.
Helena was kneeling on the hearth. Siegmund softly closed the door, then waited a moment. His heart was beating fast.
“Shall we sit by firelight?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes if you wish,” she replied, very slowly, as if against her will. He carefully turned down the lamp, then blew out the light. His whole body was burning and surging with desire.
The room was black and red with firelight. Helena shone ruddily as she knelt, a bright, bowed figure, full in the glow. Now and then red stripes of firelight leapt across the walls. Siegmund, his face ruddy, advanced out of the shadows.
He sat in the chair beside her, leaning forward, his hands hanging like two scarlet flowers listless in the fire glow, near to her, as she knelt on the hearth, with head bowed down. One of the flowers awoke and spread towards her. It asked for her mutely. She was fascinated, scarcely able to move.
“Come,” he pleaded softly.
She turned, lifted her hands to him. The lace fell back, and her arms, bare to the shoulder, shone rosily. He saw her breasts raised towards him. Her face was bent between her arms as she looked up at him afraid. Lit up by the firelight, in
