Deb and Zoe joyously hurled themselves on the phrase: “How far is so far?—that’s just it! define the limits of virtue, Winnie. How far before they mayn’t go any further?”
And in spite of Winifred’s indignant dodges and subterfuges, they succeeded in pinning her down at last to a hesitant declaration of principle. She affirmed that the parts which civilized raiment left exposed were for caresses—no harm in that: the face, the V of the neck, the arms below the elbow, hands and wrists....
“And anything beyond is violation of neutral territory?”
Winnie wriggled ambiguously. “Of course, as soon as a fellow starts pulling you about, you know.”
“Know what?”
“What he’s after.”
“What is he after?” Deb’s voice was the perfection of innocent inquiry.
“Oh, I don’t know.... You do worry, Deb. I’ve got along all right till now.” Winnie’s eyes were very round and puzzled. For the code of her class was not for analysis; a jumble of puritanism and prejudice and incurious sensuality. “But of course one has got to put a stop to it somewhere; mother wanted me to have a good time, and never bothered me much, but she did say that a chap, when he marries a girl, likes to feel that he’s the first.... Mother’d be shocked at you, Deb, I really do believe you’ve let a fellow”—her voice died away. And Deb said quickly, with averted head: “You believe I’d let a fellow go so far—and further, is that it?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘further’” Winifred retorted, pestered into a desire to get some of her own back. “You’re so close about your love-affairs.”
“Winnie, there was a time when I was a pure young girl, like you are now ... and then something happened ... in my life ... and I’ve never been the same since, Winifred. I wonder if you’d understand if I told you.”