Ursula was
frightened of him, and fascinated. Clear, before her eyes, as in a
vision, she could see the sardonic, licentious mockery of his eyes, he
moved towards her with subtle, animal, indifferent approach. The
strangeness of his hands, which came quick and cunning, inevitably to
the vital place beneath her breasts, and, lifting with mocking,
suggestive impulse, carried her through the air as if without strength,
through blackmagic, made her swoon with fear. For a moment she
revolted, it was horrible. She would break the spell. But before the
resolution had formed she had submitted again, yielded to her fear. He
knew all the time what he was doing, she could see it in his smiling,
concentrated eyes. It was his responsibility, she would leave it to
him.
When they were alone in the darkness, she felt the strange,
licentiousness of him hovering upon her. She was troubled and repelled.
Why should he turn like this?
'What is it?' she asked in dread.
But his face only glistened on her, unknown, horrible.
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