" She departed reluctantly. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. ’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm. " The Wastrel laughed. Like a hare closely pressed, Jack attempted to double, but the device only brought him nearer his foes, who were crossing the field in every direction, and rending the air with their shouts. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. For the sort of love-making you think about.
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