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FLAMING

YOUTH

“T’}] have one in half an hour.

How is he?”

“Bad.”

Within the time prescribed Pat was back with the She found Dee in the library waiting. The ‘urse. face was sallow, her eyes wide and shining wife’s young and fixed. “Oh, Dee! don’t!” begged Pat. “You look so afraid.” “J am afraid,” was the monotoned reply. “Is he going to die?” “J don’t know. That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid he isn’t.” “Dee!” “T know, I know how it sounds.

I don’t care.

When

the word first came they said he was killed. I was glad.” Pat stared at her aghast. “Why should I lie and pretend?” whispered the wife fiercely. “Why shouldn’t I want to be free of him? You know how it is between us. I’m a marriage-slave to a man who has no thought of anything but himself.” She gulped and writhed in an access of strong physical nausea. Pat’s strong hands fell upon her wrists. “Stop, Dee! You mustn’t let yourself go that way. Tell me how it happened.” “J don’t know anything about it. The Marburys’ car struck him, down near the station.”

“Poor Jimmie!” “Poor Jimmie? vened last week?”

Poor me!

“No. 'Not now, Dee.

Shall I tell you what hap-

You’re——”

“I’m all right, I tell you. We fought it out to a finish,

And I’m going to tell you. He wants to have children.

children, after the agreement he broke! Well, I couldn’t tell him the whole reason why I wouldn’t; but I told him this, and it’s true, too, as far as it goes. I said to him: