She responded as he slipped his hands under her sweater. She could not hide her face. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. “A lady, Dunster. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. The half-nude brown bodies of the crew informed Ah Cum that the schooner had come up from the South Seas.
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