‘Ask him. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. It is no good going into that. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjE1NS4zIC0gMDItMDYtMjAyNCAwMjoyMDoyOCAtIDEzOTc0MzM3
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