But still she was shaking. There was no breeze. The air was totally still. It would be quite stifling later when the sun was fully up. She would be thankful for the thin cotton of the dress then. She felt the soft hem dance and tickle playfully at her thighs. She had too much leg on show and the little white flats Sally had slipped onto her feet her were dainty, but allowed for far too much skin. Besides, the remnants of her most recent bruises were still there, poking out like angry ink splodges against her pale, milky flesh.