"And if he tries to touch me, Betty, or even takes my arm or puts his round me. And then his face. when it looks like it does sometimes all wrong. as if it had gone all wrong-oh! then I feel I shall have to scream-out loud. I'm afraid of him. when he looks like that. Once. when he kissed me. I could have died with the horror of it. His breath. his breath. and his mouth-like fruit pulp-and the black hairs on his wrists. and the way he lookedand. and everything! No, I can't, I can't. nothing will make me. I'd rather die twice over. But what am I to do? Mother'll NEVER understand. Oh, why has it got to be like this? I want to be happy, like other girls, and to make her happy, too. and everything's all wrong.
You tell me, Betty darling, you help me, you're older. you KNOW. and you can help me, if you will. if you only will!"
And locking her arms round her friend she drove her face deeper into the warmth and darkness, as if, from the very fervour of her clasp, she could draw the aid and strength she needed.
Betty had sat silent, unyielding, her sole movement being to loosen her own arms from her sides and point her elbows outwards, to hinder them touching the arms that lay round her. But at this last appeal she melted; and gathering the young girl to her breast, she held her fast.-And so for long she continued to sit, her chin resting lightly on the fair hair, that was silky and downy as an infant's, and gazing with sombre eyes over the stealthily heaving sea.