Page:Angna Enters - Among the Daughters.djvu/145

 "Don't you like it?" she badgered, kissing his eyes and nose, and then settled into his arms.

He held her close and prayed he could restrain himself. He rolled her over on her back and, holding her head cupped in his hands, searched her eyes. Did she know what she was inviting?

"Time to stop playing and go home." He lit a cigarette as a guard against her and jumped up to repack with a great show of energy.

Lucy pulled on her stockings and rolled them below her knees, and sat waiting for him to finish before putting on her slippers. He was whistling something to ward off talk but, as he could not carry a tune, she couldn't tell what it was and after several attempts to join in, gave up. Had he thought her bold, or was he afraid of her? Or himself, it must be. She had looked right back at him. He certainly was different from other boys or men who never waited to be invited.

The paint box at her side had not been opened and with her forefinger she traced the names of ships and places on the colored pasted labels. He had been to all those places in her geography lessons. Paris was the capital of France, and where Fashion comes from. Could a man live in Paris and not know fashionable girls? How long did it take before polite men acted like other men? Or did it have to be a specially planned night, like at the Crofter Hotel, and not just any old place all of a sudden? Did it begin slowly, like at lunch with Miss Shaver at the Brown Palace? No wonder he thinks I'm too young. Next time I'll know better. What if he doesn't let me come to the studio and pose any more? But the economic aspect receded as a secondary calamity to the possibility that they might stop being easygoing friends. Anyway now I can tell him I'm going to New York and maybe he'll be sorry. I'd better say something or he'll begin to talk first. She slipped into her slippers and buttoned the ankle straps as Clem stamped on the grave of picnic remnants.

"Let me carry your paint box. People will think I'm an artist and you're my model."

Clem was annoyed with himself for having left it to Lucy to speak first. He had been stupid about this whole episode. He should have manipulated the situation to have fostered their relationship in steady progression until she was old enough for love. Maybe a year. In the meantime he could look for relief elsewhere. It was amazing that he had not looked at another woman since meeting Rh