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 her simultaneously, like strong hands pulling on her in opposite directions. Why couldn't she shake the hands off? Why couldn't she shake Felix off?

Oh, let her be honest at least. She could shake him off, if she would. It was she who had suggested to the other girls that they go skating on Sabin's Pond this afternoon as they were crossing the top of Sabin's Hill on their way to the Park, where there was a hurdy-gurdy on Saturdays.

It was dusk. The skaters in the cove on the pond below were indistinguishable to the casual observer—like so many water-bugs, darting back and forth on the surface of a glassy pool. But not to Sheilah. Sheilah could always pick out Felix Nawn, from the top of Sabin's Hill, in a crowd of skaters below. Thick and bulky in outline. Long-overcoated. Slow, swooping glides. Usually to be found on the outskirts of a group. Usually alone.

'Why not stay here and skate, girls? It's so far to the Park, and already growing dark?' she had remarked.

The girls had acquiesced after a moment or two. She wished now they hadn't. Why was it afterwards there was always the same depression and regret? Before, always the same high animation and excitement? What would the girls think of her if they knew of the nagging curiosity that tugged and pulled at her lately, every time she saw Felix Nawn in a