She made no reply. He took her hand, then put his arm around her and drew her close to him. He kissed her, then hugged her tightly so that her chin rested on his shoulder. His hand stole up her side, coming to rest in its accustomed place over her breast, the fingers contracting nervously to tighten around the nipple. The other hand roamed down her back, over the tautness of her buttocks, then began to scoop under her dress and seek the waistband of her panties. He pressed hard against her to demonstrate the urgency of his desire, and she felt his heavy fingers against the skin of her belly, questing downward. Terry made no immediate attempt to resist him, even as his hand came to rest on her body, and his harsh breathing sounded in her ear as he prepared to fulfill his conquest of her. He was fumbling with her clothes, now, trying to undress her…

But as he held her, she looked out into space…across the room and to the picture on the table…and she remembered another time when a man had caressed her breasts, this time in love and not just in lust. The fair, boyish face smiled back at her from the picture, seemed to be laughing at her, and then it saddened right before her eyes.

She saw his face now looking worn and haggard, battered and bruised from beatings, with swellings along the jaw. She closed her eyes, but it was too late to shut out his image. He was walking hemmed in between two guards, a slow horrible walk such as Terry had seen in pictures, in the tabloids with somber captions underneath. He was walking to his death…to a meaningless death that nobody could explain.

She uttered a sharp cry.

Colin tensed in surprise. “What’s the matter, Terry?” he asked anxiously.

Only then did she remember that she was still in the man’s arms, that he had been caressing her body, trying to stimulate her into wanting to go to bed with him. The sickening realization that it was futile to try to live by her brain alone burst upon her with fierce savagery. She pushed Colin brusquely away from her and began to sob. Colin looked puzzled. “What—?”

“Leave me alone.”

“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “What’s gone wrong this time?”

She shook her head, sobbing wordlessly.

The bewilderment in his face became anger. “Hell, Terry,” he said, “I can’t make you out at all. One minute you’re a mature woman of the world, and the next you act like a silly high school girl out on a stupid necking party. What the devil’s the matter with you, anyway? Will you tell me that?”

She stopped crying, the tears drying up as suddenly as they had begun.

“Go away, Jack. Please,” she begged.