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 "Oh no, no!" shrieked Miss Curtis. "Oh, Mr. Bevans, it will ruin the school if any parent got a hint of such a thing. They'd think we had been careless." "And so we have been," said Austin, "damned careless. And if we are ruined, we're ruined, but at least I'm going to have the satisfaction of saying what I think."

He jammed his hat on his head and made his way rapidly toward the garage.

"What's he going to do? If he'd only listen to reason," said Miss Curtis, feebly. "He'll ruin the school."

"But what can you expect of a jealous boy?" said Miss Hayes.

"Jealous?" said Miss Curtis. "I don't understand. Who do you think is jealous? What do you mean?"

"Nothing," answered Miss Hayes.

Miss Curtis was the kind of person who allowed herself to be put off with an answer like that. It interested her more to go on weeping.

As Austin drove the geranium-colored car south toward the wide pink glare in the southern sky—which indicated, not an immense conflagration, but simply that New York was going on as usual—a conflict was taking place within him. He intended to