"Put it on now," said Nina.
"Shall I?" She was longing to. "No, I don't think I will."
"You must," said Nina.
Laura put it on, baring her white neck and shoulders, and turned for Nina to "fasten her up the back."
Nina had a vision of Prothero standing over the little thing, his long deft hands trembling as he performed this office.
The Kiddy, divinely unconscious, babbled on of Owen and the wonderful gown.
"Conceive," she said, "the darling going out all by himself to get it! How he knew one gown from another—how he knew the shops—what hand guided him—I can't think. It must have been his guardian angel."
"Or yours."
"Yes—when you think of the horrors he might have got."
Laura had stroked the velvet to smoothness about her waist, and now she was pulling up a fold of lace above her breasts. As she did this she looked at her own image in the glass and smiled softly, unaware. Nina saw then that her breasts were slightly and delicately rounded; she recognized the work of life, shaping Laura's womanhood; it was the last touch of the passion that had made her body the sign and symbol of its perfection. Her own breasts heaved as the wild fang pierced them.