''But dancing is not easy,'' she said, pressing on. ''One must be taught to dance. You taught me.''
''This is different.''
''Why is it?''
''There are lots of ways to dance. You can only do this, one way. The way will come to you, when once you have begun.''
I felt her shake her head. ''I don''t think,'' she said miserably, ''it will come to me. I don''t think that kisses can start me off. Mr Rivers''s kisses never have. Perhaps—perhaps my mouth lacks a certain necessary muscle or nerve—?''
I said, ''For God''s sake, miss. Are you a girl, or a surgeon? Of course your mouth will work. Look here.'' She had fired me up. She had wound me tight, like a spring. I rose from my pillow. ''Where are your lips?'' I said.
''My lips?'' she answered, in a tone of surprise. ''They are here.''
I found them, and kissed her.
I knew how to do it all right, for Dainty had shown me, once. Kissing Maud, however, was not like kissing her. It was like kissing the darkness. As if the darkness had life, had a shape, had taste, was warm and glib. Her mouth was still, at first. Then it moved against mine. Then it opened. I felt her tongue. I felt her swallow. I felt—
I had done it, only to show her. But I lay with my mouth on hers and felt, starting up i