First, she drank eagerly, as if burning with thirst, she could hardly as a sign. Then she bathed her face and her wrists, and stood smiling happily into the sun.

For a moment, she stood, looking her life away from her dreams. For a moment, she had no memory of the faithlessness of man nor of how he "in veiled and rode away" of "kissed and told." She only knew that she loved Clinton, had he loved her, and that when he kissed her heart and soul, had gone in triumph to her lips to meet his demand.

She loved him and he had kissed her. Dorothy was very happy and not at all afraid of the awakening of reading that night. "Dorothy, what are you coming out there?" asked her uncle's insistent voice. "The striped sea bass ain't going to be better by her cousin," she replied.

So, though Clinton had left her, she was sure that she would wait upon him, who could make the demands of velatiotish upon her.

So, though Clinton had thought that Clinton would.  Surely, return that night to tell her what her kiss had meant to him. It did not come. And the next day, she said, "I will not come." It was a wonder, then pain, then doubt. Do not think if they had their charm, she would have a little diversion when she was alone. 