She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. Footman or some such. You want to think for a time, to be free for a time.
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