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“Her look became frantic. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Maybe it’s different in the wild land you come from, Mr. Bouchard. But here gentlemen are always right. And girls like me are always sluts once they have lost their m-maidenhood. That is what I will be called if anyone knows. Or whore. Please, Mr. Bouchard.” Her hands clawed at the lapels of his coat. “Sh, ma petite,” he said, drawing her into his arms again, soothing her. “Sacré coeur, sometimes I forget that now I am in a civilized nation where maidens who are raped are sluts and ’ores. Civilization is a wonderful thing, n’est-ce pas?” — Mary Balogh
Her look became frantic. “You don’t understand,” she said. “Maybe it’s different in the wild land you come from, Mr. Bouchard. But here gentlemen are always right. And girls like me are always sluts once they have lost their m-maidenhood. That is what I will be called if anyone knows. Or whore. Please, Mr. Bouchard.” Her hands clawed at the lapels of his coat.
“Sh, ma petite,” he said, drawing her into his arms again, soothing her. “Sacré coeur, sometimes I forget that now I am in a civilized nation where maidens who are raped are sluts and ’ores. Civilization is a wonderful thing, n’est-ce pas?