It was in that way the thing happened, and it did not even seem strange to me.

Anything might happen on the moor--anything.

And there was the fair little girl with the eyes like a doe's.
I knew she had come to play with me, and we went together to my house among the bushes of broom and gorse and played happily.

But before we began I saw her stand and look wonderingly at the dark-red stain on the embroideries on her childish breast.

It was as if she were asking herself how it came there and could not understand.