She looked like one who bared her breast for a mortal hurt as she spoke.

Dorothy went pink to the roots of her yellow hair and the frill on her nightgown.

She made an angry shamed motion of her head, which might have signified anything.
"And you can believe this thing of him after that!" said Madelon, with a look of despairing scorn.

"He has kissed you, Dorothy Fair, and you can think he has committed a murder!" Dorothy gasped.

"They said--" she began again.
"_They said!_ Are you a woman, Dorothy Fair, and don't you know that the man you love enough to let him kiss you should do no wrong in your eyes, or else it's a shame to you, and you should kill him to wipe it out ?" Dorothy shrank away from her in the bed, her frightened blue eyes staring at her over her shoulder.