While the strife raged between the principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were occupied in stemming the force of the torrent, and endeavouring to keep the boats, they had lashed together, stationary. She asked no further questions for the moment. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. Miss Moffatt, the history and moral instruction mistress, was particularly explicit upon this score, and they all agreed in indicating contempt and pity for girls whose minds ran on such matters, and who betrayed it in their conversation or dress or bearing. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. I did not know what God had in mind then.
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