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 FLAMING

YOUTH

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“JT know John Dupuy,” proceeded Thorpe. “He isn” just exactly the one to draw lines too strictly.” “T grant you that Johnnie would never win the diamondset chastity belt of the world’s championship,” said the daring Miss Thorne, and elicited a chorus of appreciative mirth. Pat did not join init. She was thinking fast and hard. After the rest had gone Monty stayed on, as of right. Something in Pat’s expression struck even his torpid perceptions, as he put his arm around her and drew her to him for the customary “petting party.” “What's all the gloom about, sweetie?” She released herself not over-gently. “Monty, woulc you have done what Dupuy did?” “Flow do you mean?” “Broken off your engagement—on that account?” “Why, yes. Any fellow would.” A convincing reason for him. “Selden Thorpe wouldn’t.” “T’ll bet he would. He’s a bluff. He makes me sick.” ““Well—then—yyou’d better break ours.” “TI don’t get you, Pat.” “Tt’s been the same with me as with Elsie Dowden I’ve been meaning to tell you.” “JT don’t believe it,” he said violently. “It’s a try-on. A trick.” ie “It’s true. You've got to believe it.” ““Who’s the man?” bayed Monty like a huge dog. “T’ll never tell you.” He gathered his powerful frame together as if to spring upon her.

If he did, if he beat her to the ground, choked

her into helplessness, Pat thought, she would hate him and love him for it. But his rage ebbed, impotent of itu culmination, a little pitiful, a little ridiculous.