What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. ” “I didn’t understand—your idea of making love. " "Be it so," replied Jack, putting up his blade. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. .
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