"I wanted you, dear." Her arms twined softly about me.
I felt appalled. The Girl, my revolutionary plans, flitted through my mind, chilling me with self-reproach. The pale hue of the attained cast its shadow across the spell, and I lay cold and quiet on Luba's breast. The coverlet was slipping down, and, reaching for it, my hand inadvertently touched her knee.
"Sasha, how can you!" she cried in alarm, sitting up with terrified eyes.
"I didn't mean to, Luba. How could you think that of me?" I was deeply mortified.
My hand relaxed on her breast. We lay in silent embarrassment.
"It is getting late, Sasha." She tenderly drew my head to her bosom.
"A little while yet, dear," and again the enchantment of the virgin breasts was upon me, and I showered wild kisses on them, and pressed them passionately, madly, till she cried out in pain.
"You must go now, dear."
"Good night, Luba."
"Good night, dearest. You haven't kissed me, Sashenka."