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FLAMING

YOUTH

“Did you expect that I should take it lightly, Pat?” “No, but

7

“T love you,” he said. No more than that, hardly above his breath. But it was as if he had pronounced the final word of passion, of yearning, of devotion; his full confession of the bond which is at once primal and eternal between man and woman. She dropped her head. The thick clusters of her hair rippled forward, almost concealing the eyes which she lifted, aslant, alight, mischievous, yet craving, to his.

“Do

you?”

she whispered.

“Do

you truly?”

nestled again, close in his embrace. “And you, Pat?” he asked. “T don’t know,” she answered, troubled. been able to think—-since.

She

“I’ve hardly

I suppose I must; but

~

“We have a great deal to say to each other,” he began gravely, when she broke in:

“T’ve had so much else to think about.

Have you heard

about poor Dee?” “Dee? No. What is it?” “Tt isn*t exactly Dee. It’s Jimmie. He was run over by a car three days ago.” “Not killed!” “Almost. It’s his back. Bobs says they can save him but it would be kinder to let him die. He'll never be anything but a helpless log.” “Good Heavens! Poor Dee! I must go over there.” “We'll go over together. Ill tell you as we go.” She ran to get her hat, returned at once, setting it in place on her —utinous hair, stood studying him for a moment through half-closed eyes, then leapt to him, flung her arms about his body, pressed her cheek to his, murmuring, “Ti’s too flawless te have you back, Cary!” Outside, she said, “Dee was going to leave him.”