m**********g or making love to Karen, she had been thinking about doing so!
Just as now. Here they were, four attractive people, sitting on the greensward and smoking cigarettes while their horses browsed quietly in the background.
A scene from another time, perhaps, one in which more people had real leisure and wealth.
So here they were. But as she spoke of the adventure of driving without gas last night, and made as charming and humorous a story of it as it deserved, she was watching Angela and vividly imagining her long blond loins. Her eyes were one—half full, as it were, with the staggering knowledge of her abrupt introduction to female homosexuality. It was disorienting and rather uncomfortable. Why did she like this girl? Was it just because she was a cheerful conversationalist?
