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FLAMING YOUTH

“T've always thought that sort of thing was imbecile.



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Sort of sickening.”

“Do I know him?" demanded the practical Pat, Nak “Evens and odds Ido. Tell Pattie,” she wheedled. With face gloomily averted, Dee pursued her main preoccupation. “Do you feel when you Kiss a man as if all your nerves were strung wires and an electric shock went flaming along them and then died out and left you es

“OhF? jeered Pat softly.

“And you claim that you've

never been really Kissed.” And I felt his heart beating. . . . And then afterwards,
 * “T haven*t. But he—he lifted me in his arms once.

do you hate and despise yourself for letting it affect you that way?” queried the neophyte of passion, interpreting

dimly the sharp revulsion of her undefeated maidenhood against its own first weakening toward surrender. “No. flected.

Of course I don’t. Why should I?” Pat re “I have been ashamed, though—a little. But

that was because of what someone said to me about it. A friend. He made it seem cheap.” “Cheap? Oh, no; it wasn’t cheap. But that’s what I felt; that ashamedness afterward. As strongly as I felt the other. Stronger.” Instinctive psychologist enough to know that the re

bound is never as powerful as the impact Pat dishelieved this. “Just the same I think you're taking a big chance marrying Jimmy. Why don’t you marry the—the thriller?” “Don't!” snapped Dee. “You're making it cheap now.” “But why don’t you?™ persisted the junior. “TI couldn’t.”

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