1 He watched the beautiful curving drop of her haunches.
2 Even the corridors managed to be ample and lovely, softly curved and full of life.
3 She backed slowly round the curve, out of sight of the road, locked the car, and got down.
4 He stroked her tail with his hand, long and subtly taking in the curves and the globe-fullness.
5 She took it obediently, and he watched the full curve of her hips as she went up the first stairs.
6 And there his hand softly, softly, stroked the curve of her flank, in the blind instinctive caress.
7 Instead of ripening its firm, down-running curves, her body was flattening and going a little harsh.
8 It swerved at the bottom of the hill and disappeared; but it had such a lovely easy curve, of knights riding and ladies on palfreys.
9 Clifford started the little engine, the man carefully turned the chair, and set it nose-forwards to the incline that curved gently to the dark hazel thicket.
10 He laid his hand on her shoulder, and softly, gently, it began to travel down the curve of her back, blindly, with a blind stroking motion, to the curve of her crouching loins.
11 On the far side of his supreme prostitution to the bitch-goddess he seemed pure, pure as an African ivory mask that dreams impurity into purity, in its ivory curves and planes.
12 So she lay on the blanket with curved, soft naked haunches, and he had no idea what she was thinking, but to him too she was beautiful, the soft, marvellous thing he could go into, beyond everything.
13 And his white slim back was curved over a big bowl of soapy water, in which he ducked his head, shaking his head with a queer, quick little motion, lifting his slender white arms, and pressing the soapy water from his ears, quick, subtle as a weasel playing with water, and utterly alone.