“Ay!” he said.

Then with the same eyes darkened with another flame of consciousness, almost like sleep, he looked at her.

“Dunna ax me nowt now,” he said. “Let me be. I like thee. I luv thee when tha lies theer. A woman’s a lovely thing when ’er’s deep ter fuck, and cunt’s good. Ah luv thee, thy legs, an’ th’ shape on thee, an’ th’ womanness on thee. Ah luv th’ womanness on thee. Ah luv thee wi’ my ba’s an’ wi’ my heart. But dunna ax me nowt. Dunna ma’e me say nowt. Let me stop as I am while I can. Tha can ax me ivrything after. Now let me be, let me be!”

And softly, he laid his hand over her mound of Venus, on the soft brown maidenhair, and himself sat still and naked on the bed, his face motionless in physical abstraction, almost like the face of Buddha. Motionless, and in the invisible flame of another consciousness, he sat with his hand on her, and waited for the turn.