Clemmie Read Online Free PDF Page A

of care, sat down on the edge of the bed, shifting his weight a little at a time so as not to awaken her. Her leg touched the side of his hip, and he felt her warmth. She breathed slowly and deeply, placid as a child, and the gray light from the window was across her.
    He sat for a very long time, until it was almost dark, just watching her sleep and getting pleasure from looking at loveliness and utter repose. She was dressed in a thing she had brought to the flat the last time she had come, something to give relief from the ugliness of the uniform. It was a one-piece outfit, not unlike coveralls or battle dress, with long sleeves and trouser legs. But it did not have the bagginess of coveralls. It was fitted to her, and it was of a soft gray-green, with knitted cuffs and anklets. She was sprawled there, looking leggy, almost boyish. Her breasts rose and fell with her soft breath.
    On impulse he put his hand on her waist, and as she came awake, he bent over her and kissed her. She flung her arm up and tightened it around his neck, and her lips were electrically avid, her body, straining up for a moment to meet his. She made a sound like a sob and pushed him away, roughly and strongly, and moved around him with agility and fled to the other room. He followed her closely and, when she stopped, he took her shoulders and turned her around.
    “No!” she said sharply.
    He kissed her. Her mouth was lax and unresponsive. But he held her closely, caressing her as he kissed her. He felt the beginnings of response, and then she began to fight him with strength and violence. It was all he could manage to hold her, to keep his lips on hers. She stopped fighting suddenly, and her hips thrust strongly forward and her arms were strong around him, and her lips were alive. She sobbed again, and flung herself a bit to the side, sagging in his arms, head drooping, hair falling forward,breathing hoarsely. In time her breathing quieted and she straightened and said calmly, “Let me go now, Craig. Please.”
    He released her. She walked over and sat near the stove.
    “I think I should explain something to you.”
    “I guess you should.”
    “It was a promise I made. After I found out. That in all the rest of my life there would never be anyone else. Rather like a shrine, I suppose. And rather foolish, I imagine. But there it was, and it was a sacred promise. I had promised God. Jeff and I had made love together, and it was all the love I ever wanted. But I’m so desperately weak. I’ve sensed that. When you kissed me, I tried to make my mind and my heart nothing but a great empty coldness.”
    “I think I understand.”
    “Thank you, Craig. Was it so childish?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I’ll never really love anyone else. Is that clear too?”
    “Yes.”
    She turned toward him, and the only light was the red glow of the stove highlighting the curve of her cheek, glowing darkly in one eye.
    “Do you know how weak I really am?” she asked.
    “How weak?”
    “I know you. I could ask you to help me. But I shan’t. I—want you.”
    On that Sunday their life entered another dimension. Their physical need of each other was great, almost obsessive. They learned each other and became so perfectly attuned that each could be aroused by a word, a gesture, a glance. Her body was long and firm and rounded, and her skin texture almost unbelievably smooth. It was not long before the artifices and devices of physical modesty no longer existed between them. They took uncomplicated pleasure in the sight and touch of each other. And the compulsive frequency of their love-making seemed to renew rather than exhaust them. His capacity for work seemed to increase, and in her stride there was a new resiliency and energy.
    There was a curious flavor to her love-making. She was not a creature of theatrical frenzies, of nails and teeth and whinings. She was earth-mother. She was like sunlit earth, like sea tides, like a slow wind in fields of wheat.She