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FLAMING

YOUTH

“How do you know he says anything about you?” “Don’t tease. Tell Pattie.” “You ought to know Scott well enough to realise that he isn’t the sort to display his feelings in a show window. But there are lines that one could read between. Have you written to him, Pat?” “No.”

“Aren’t you going to send for him?” Her face darkened with troubled memories. “I couldn’t. You don’t understand.

I couldn’t, Jimmie.”

“T could write.” “You shan’t. You mustn’t; if you do Dll hate you. Promise.” “All right. I promise. But don’t you really want to see him ever again?” “Sometimes I think I'll die if I don’t,” she said simply. “Other times—I don’t know.” “Why not find out? Won’t you let me write?” “No;

no.

“Very well.

You’ve

promised.”

Dll keep to it. Take me inside, slave.”

He did not write.

He cabled,