Part 17 (1/2)
Her breast was touching him, and he did not draw back.
”Then why did you come?” She laughed.
”Because I'm a fool.”
”A fool to want me?”
”By G.o.d, yes. You know that, you s.l.u.t.”
”No. You would be a fool if you didn't, you--man.”
”Be careful.” Harry flushed.
”Oh Lud, was I made to be careful?”
He gripped her hand, and, after a moment, ”Take off your hood,” he muttered.
”Is that all?” She laughed, and let it fall from hair and neck, and looked as though sunlight had flashed out at her. ”Honest gentleman, you are lightly satisfied.”
”So are not you, I vow.”
She was pleased to answer that with a sc.r.a.p of a song:
”Jog on, jog on the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile-a!
A merry heart goes all the way, A sad one tires in a mile-a.”
”Faith, yours is a mighty sad one, Harry. Pray, what are you the better for stripping me of this?” She flirted the hood.
”I can see those wicked colours of yours. Lord, what a fool is a man to go mad for a show of pink and white!”
”And is that all I am?”
Harry shrugged. ”Item--a pair of eyes that look sideways; item--a woman's body with arms and sufficient legs.”
”Lud, it's an inventory! I'm for sale, then. Well, what's your bid?”
”I've a s.h.i.+lling in my pocket ma'am and want it to buy tobacco.”
”Oh, silly, what does a man pay for a woman?”
Harry laughed. ”Why, nothing, if she's worth buying.”
Then Alison said softly, ”Going--going--gone,” and clapped her hands and laughed.
”You go beyond me at least,” Harry said in a moment.
She put her hands behind her and leaned forward till her bosom pressed upon him lightly, and then, with her head tilted back so that he saw the white curve from under her chin, and the line of the blue vein in it, ”You want me, Harry,” she said.
”You know that too well, by G.o.d.”