“Yes!”
He got up. She watched him dress. He was slow and careless in the performance. But her attention was absorbed by the muscular play of his splendid body.
“Well?” he asked smiling.
“Well what?” she challenged.
“What makes you stare?”
“Nothin’!”
“Am I nothin’?”
“Yes!”
He laughed with his usual readiness, and content, turned his back on her with lazy ease and walked over to the mirror. Erna frowned slightly. Somehow, his “I” had put her on her old guard. It seemed to spell property, as did his care-free satisfaction with himself. Erna watched him with glances sharpened by caution.
But it was necessary to dress. She was beginning to feel chilly. Without getting up, she slipped on her waist, that had been lying nearby on the floor.