“That sign,” he explained. “It gets me. Around here every damned thing gets interpreted in terms of figures. Eight million by nineteen seventy, the sign says. That’s no promise, Terry. It’s a downright threat. Another four million small lives grubbing for pennies. Everybody’s values are all wrong in this city. In this entire country, for that matter. The beauty of existence is being crushed out by sheer numbers.”

Terry tried to look interested. “You feel things too deeply,” she said.

“I know,” he said eagerly. “Don’t you think I know? That’s what makes it so tough.”

She regretted instantly having displayed such warmth and understanding. He interpreted it as a signal for him to plant another kiss on her mouth.

Again the thick lips pressed hers. Again the groping hand went into action, only this time it snaked round her body until it could grasp her breast tightly. She was wearing a low-cut dress, and his sweaty fingertips pressed deeply, seeking the little stiff point of the nipple. At the same time his other hand rested briefly on her stockinged knee, then began to crawl upward, past the rim of the stocking, past the garter, to the soft satiny flesh of her thigh. Terry stood it as long as she could. Jack thought he was stimulating her by putting his hand between her legs, by groping for her breasts, but all she felt was sharp revulsion. She controlled her reaction, toning it down: all she did was slide her lips away from his and tactfully remove his hand from her bosom. The other hand wanted to remain in place; she slid it out from under her panties and pulled her dress back down over her knees.

Colin smiled faintly. She wondered if he thought she was simply going out of her way to make the chase more exciting, more of an erotic steeplechase. She looked out of the window again and noticed the direction in which they were going.

“Aren’t you taking me home, Jack?” she asked evenly. It was hard to tell from her tone whether that was what she wanted.

He continued to smile. “Not right away, Terry,” he said quietly. “Do you mind?”

“No,” she said cautiously. “No, of course not. It’s just that I’m—well, rather tired. I don’t really think I’d be very good company.”

He laughed lightly. “I can’t imagine you being anything else, darling.”

The car was pulling into the driveway that led to Colin’s big, Norman-style house. Colin moved to kiss her again, as if to give her a tantalizing sample of the delights that were in store for her. This time, he twisted full around to face her, and both his hands went for her breasts, gripping them tight, cupping them in sweaty fingers, seeking to slip beneath the bra and touch the tender nipple.

She turned her head away and drew his eager hands from her bosom.