"That is right," said Nick. He smiled down at her, lingering a moment, feeling his sense being flogged to action by the sensual impact of her. She lay splayed on the bed, the black bra and panties mere filmy shadows across the gold-cream nakedness of her. Her hair was short black silk on the pillow, her face in the dusk an oval with crimson flower for a mouth. Mija looked up at him, unsmiling now, her lashes hooding the great long brown eyes.
1965.