“Or she?”
“Come on.”
“Can’t you see?”
“No.”
“We said when we took the leap we’d take it together. We are.”
Quiltan rose and moved a little away.
“I shall want you,” whispered Wynne.
“No, you won’t,” said Eve.
Quiltan walked from the room. In the hall he waited indecisively. Then he remembered the flash of a light seen in Wynne’s eyes—a light of possession—wild, primal, outraged possession. He drew a quick conclusion.
“I’m no good,” he thought. Then, turning to the porter, “I want that car of mine.” He waited in the porch until it came.