She nodded and leant her face against the cushioned back of the carriage, closing her eyes. I watched her pure profile—the arched eyebrows, the heavy eyelids, the straight nose, the full and pouting mouth, the rounded chin, the long, sensuous curve of the graceful neck. I traced the small blue veins beneath the transparent whiteness of her temples. I studied her beauty, committing it to memory. Then I commenced to compare her with Dorrie, discovering the likeness. I wondered whether I had first felt drawn to her because she was so like Dorrie, or only for herself.
I looked up from Dorrie, and found Vi gazing at me.
I had thought her sleeping.
“Just wakened?”
“I’ve been awake all the time. I’ve been thinking.”
“Of what?”
“Last night. How different it was! We didn’t have to hide. No one was looking.”
“Then we’ll go again to where no one is looking.”
“We can’t always do that. But I was thinking of something else.”
“What was it this time?”