“Well?” she said, smiling. “Say it out! I know it’s something bad.”

“You must have had some love-affairs, being the sort of girl you are. You can’t make me believe you’ve always run away.”

She nodded her head vigorously.

“I have,” she said. “I have, always. Though the boys I know never will believe it. Directly they touch me I run away. I want them to want me. It’s a lovely feeling to be wanted like that. It’s like floating on a wave. But when they try any of their games, messing a person about and rumpling a person’s clothes, I can’t bear it. I won’t bear it, either!”