She looked at the girl—at the earnest, unwashed face, at the small chest rising and falling with the effort of the climb. And she felt, despite every intention, the old machinery of wanting grind back to life.
“That’s a coward’s desire,” she whispered to the gulls. But the gulls only screamed and wheeled away. -18 - Q -Desire-
Just a hand to hold, a hill to climb down, a question to carry home. She looked at the girl—at the earnest, unwashed