Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, these two must epitomise it. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. "Past noon," replied Blueskin. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. There was so much to see, so much to do, that he became what he had once been normally, a lovable boy. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone.
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