When she opened her eyes, they met his and she felt her hand hold­ing his arm. The planet turned on its axis a moment before she groaned and stretched in the langour of warm sleep. Nothing in the world would have prevented him from taking her in his arms and loving her, feeling himself in herself; nothing at all, except that she didn’t want it and he couldn’t bear the look of reproach he imagined she would give. For all the huge force of blood that was in him, it could be quelled by one look of her eyes. She was not a cold woman, had he not slept by her side and felt the unbearable lushness and richness of her; it was just that she was her own woman.