"Throw me that waist," she said.
"Come around and get it."
"Aw, Rudolph, throw it. Please!"
"Getting modest, all at once," he jeered. But he picked it up and
advanced to the table with it. As she held out her hand for it he
caught her and drew her forward toward him, across the table.
"You little devil!" he said, and kissed her.
She submitted, because she must, but she shivered. If she was to
save Graham she must play the game. And so far she was winning.
She was feminine enough to know that already the thing he thought
she had done was to be forgiven her. More than that, she saw a
half-reluctant admiration in Rudolph's eyes, as though she had
gained value, if she had lost virtue, by the fact that young Spencer
had fancied her. And Rudolph's morals were the morals of many of
his kind. He admired chastity in a girl, but he did not expect it.
But she was watchful for the next move he might make. That it was
not what she expected did not make it the less terrifying.
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