Men had tried that before, but never until now had they been quick enough.
The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.

Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act.
"I haven't offended you ?"--not contritely but curiously.
"No"-- as if her thoughts were elsewhere.
Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him.

"Has no man ever kissed you ?" "No." Which was literally the truth.
He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her.

There was nothing of the phenomenon in this.

But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands.
Ruth had lived in a world without caresses.