Free!
May scampered across the cold, bare floor on her bare feet. She braced her toes in the rail of the bed and swung herself over. Then she snuggled down—quick!
Alice could not shake off the sensation she had had with the little naked girl in her arms. The child's small, thin nakedness was like a knife. Alice wanted the child's nakedness to cut her heavy flesh into feeling.
She went over to the crib. In the dark, she could feel the baby staring up, awake, making no sound. She turned to the mantel shelf for the bottle and offered it to his lips which she could barely see. His small hands touched her meaninglessly. He accepted the bottle. He was content. She could hear him sucking.
She knelt by the crib, by the baby that ignored her. She gave herself to it. She betrayed it sweetly.
Oh, baby!
She wept, enjoying her shame. She wanted to put its hands in her breast, its lips in her breast. In the dark room she wanted to tear off her clothes to give the baby her nakedness.
But the baby could not take her. It could not show her herself. In time it would give the light of pain to some one, but now it was little with small hands.
Alice could not bear the baby any more. What did she want?
She went out of the nursery and into her own room and closed the door.