It was an earnest, soulful, and loving pair of eyes that I met.

What did she read in mine?
Her hands left mine to slide to my shoulders, to slip behind my neck, to lock there like steel bands.
Here was my ordeal.

Was it to be as terrible as Steele's had been?
I thought it would be, and I swore by all that was rising grim and cold in me that I would be strong.

Sally gave a little cry that cut like a blade in my heart, and then she was close-pressed upon me, her quivering breast beating against mine, her eyes, dark as night now, searching my soul.
She saw more than I knew, and with her convulsive clasp of me confirmed my half-formed fears.

Then she kissed me, kisses that had no more of girlhood or coquetry or joy or anything but woman's passion to blind and hold and tame.