It never occurred to her that he had done rather a fine thing, or
that he had protected her against herself. She felt no particular
shame, save the shame of rejection. In her small world of the hill,
if a man gave a girl valuable gifts or money there was generally a
quid pro quo. If the girl was unwilling, she did not accept such
gifts. If the man wanted nothing, he did not make them. And men
who made love to girls either wanted to marry them or desired some
other relationship with them.
She listened to his retreating footsteps, and then began,
automatically to unbutton her thin white blouse. But with the
sound of the engine of his car below she ran to the window. She
leaned out, elbows on the sill, and watched him go, without a look
up at her window.
So that was the end of that!
Then, all at once, she was fiercely angry. He had got her into this
scrape, and now he had left her. He had pretended to love her, and
all the time he had meant to do just this, to let her offer herself
so he might reject her.
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