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 FLAMING

YOUTH

97

“I assure you, I am finding no lack of interest in the proceedings,” he returned drily. “Meaning,

‘Don’t

get fresh, little child.

Well,

I’m

no rum-hound. By the way, do you take that patronising tone with Connie?” “Suppose you satisfy your curiosity on that subject

by asking her.” “Now you’re trying to flatten me out like a worm.” She contemplated him with mischievous daring in her eyes. “I don’t see it,” she stated deliberately. “I don’t see it at all.” “What don’t you see? I should have thought that very little escaped your singularly sharp faculties of observation.” “You and Connie. I don’t get it.” His stare met her glance and turned it aside. But she persisted, half laughing: “If you weren’t old enough to be her father——— Yet you’re not clever enough to be onto her. She’s got you going. Do you know what’s the matter with Con?” “While your views are doubtless valuable, I am not aware that I have invited them.” “Blighted! But I’m going to tell you just the same. Nothing above the ears.” “Above the ears?” Scott stared in puzzlement at the two blobs of sub-lustrous, dark hair which effectually concealed his youthful partner’s organs of hearing. “Oh, no brains!” she cried impatiently. “Must I talk baby talk to you?” “You might talk comprehensible English,” he said sternly. “And you might also find a more suitable topic than criticism of your sister.” She was daring enough to try to meet the cold fire of his gaze, but not steadfast enough to endure it. “Now