She knows her husband is capable of strange things sometimes. Vicente comes back with a piece of charcoal. He takes Yves’s wrist and ceremoniously draws a thin black line around it, like the bracelet described in Loti’s novel. It tickles, and Yves laughs. The laugh irritates Myriam. Then Vicente says he wants to draw an anchor on Yves’s left pectoral. He’s taking the game too far, Myriam thinks uncomfortably. But Yves unbuttons his shirt willingly. His body is lean and well-formed. His skin gives off a strong odor of sweat that surprises Myriam—and arouses Vicente.
