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FLAMING

YOUTH

only because an independent-minded vagrant such as I am finds travel in Europe more convenient under a married name than as a Miss.

So one does not take, but invents

a husband. Here and now I am Ralph Fentriss’s halfsister and Patricia Fentriss’s aunt.” “Something

of an occupation in itself,” he reflected

aloud. “Tt is. What, if one may ask, are you doing ia thaté gallery? Pat curled herself on the foot of my bed this morning and discussed the universe for an hour. Chiefly you.” “Vastly flattered!

“Afterward?

Et aprés?”

That is for you to answer, isn’t it? Why

are you laying siege to the child’s mind?” “Because I dislike waste. It is too keen a mind to be frittered away on nothings.” “Has Pat been making love to you?” The question was put without the slightest alteration of the easy tone. “Really, that’s a question which———” “Don’t pretend to be shocked. Women always do make love to you, don’t they?” “You didn’t,” smilingly he reminded her, “at Taormina. Hence my blighted life.” “No. I preferred to have you make love to me. You did it so expertly.” “And wholly unsuccessfully.”

“What did you expect? A correct young married woman going on to meet her husband by the boat! Would you have been so vehement if you had known me to be an unmarried girl?” “T haven’t made it a practice to make love to unmarried girls.” “Why select Pat, then?” She paused, giving him time to speculate upon what Pat might or might not have unin-