Word: frederickã
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...carriage, at the window, behind the curtains, under the bed, on the floor next to the bed...he could hardly remember the particulars anymore. Roxanna’s fingers, trailing delicately through his matted locks, were like tongues of divine fire; and her tongue, wherever it landed on Frederick??s body, felt like Jesus’s fingers. Frederick??s body and prayer climaxed as one. He stood slowly and continued down the hall.And then he entered the kitchen, and there she was, standing in front of a window with the light pouring in around...
...branch which reached over the river. She had seen the man before, she knew the blotchy complexion of his torso. It was Frederick. He was naked, weeping, singing, and frenetically stripping bark from the branch in little strips. They fell into the stream and floated gently away, heedless of Frederick??s wracking sobs. Roxanna barely managed to keep silent, so great was the urge to cry out in horror and pity. She threw herself back over the edge of the hill, and, burying her face in the folds of her dress, wept for some minutes. A feeling began...
...palms of her hands, which were cool from the glass. She wanted now to commune with the breezes, out on the veranda maybe, or in the shadows of the cypress trees. But first she had to attend to her master. As Roxanna tripped lightly down the hall toward Frederick??s chambers, she sang bits and snippets of an old Shropshire tune. “Hey nonny, hey nonny...In the spring time, the only pretty ring time...” Distracted as she was, she forgot to knock, and thus did she intrude on the following scene: Frederick...
...Frederick??s eager grasp proved too rough for the ancient carving. Alcibiades’ crucial member broke off in his hand. Frederick eyed it with interest for a moment, then cast it aside with a curse. It was too small...
...next gallery, two American tourists paused to gawk at Frederick through the open doorway. Frederick??s pasty body jerked against the marble form of Narcissus. Frederick was making a high-pitched, keening sound. Narcissus regarded his reflection complacently...