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FLAMING

YOUTH

“You seem to have been unfortunately precocious.” She flashed a smile at him. “Are you jealous?” The amazing realisation came to him that he was. But he answered steadily: “What right should I have te be jealous of what you might do?” “Suppose I want you to be?” This he chose to disregard. “I don’t believe that you understand yourself, your temperament.” He was trying to hold himself to a tone of cool diagnosis. “I wish I were

your Dr. Bobs for fifteen minutes.” “Well, I don’t,” she retorted.

“Bobs’s

middle names

are Sterling Worth; but I’d rather have you lecture me. You understand.” “IT understand that you are of a very high-strung, neurotic, excitable temperament.” Gloom overshadowed her face again. “You’re not telling me any news about myself.” “Then you must see how perilous it is for a girl like you to be what you call a necker.” “Oh, as far as that goes,” she answered coolly, “I’ve always got my foot on the brake. Kvery minute. If things get too hectic I can always see the ridiculous side of it and get up a laugh. It’s a grand little safeguard, being able to laugh at yourself.”

“T suppose it is. As long as you are able.” “Anyway, I’ve been terribly proper ever since you talked to me that night at the party. Wise virgin stuff! Do you know you’ve got a lot of influence over me, Mr. Scott?” “Have I? I’m glad of that.” “So am I. But I don’t quite know why you should have.” She pondered. “Unless it’s because there’s some-

thing about you that makes the other men seem clumsy snd—and local.”