” She found her muscles a-tremble. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Hastily, he reached for the door. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. Another picture slid across her vision. . Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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