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FLAMING

YOUTH

evening as far as it had gone. When they the conservatory again, she made him sit in a site to her. His sophomoric assurance was pered down; the unformed child whom he had condescendingly and as a kindness earlier in

returned te chair oppoquite temdanced with the evening, He chafed at

was become imperatively desirable now. her aloof attitude. “I’m coming to see you,” he said with an attempt at masterfulness in his tone, “I'll come to-morrow. Keep the evening open.” She shook her head. “I’m going back to school.” “Are you?” He looked dispirited. “Will you write to me, Pat?”

SCan't.”

““Well—you’ll be home for vacation, won’t you?” “Of course.” “Soll I. I was going to a house party on Staten Island. But if you'll be here I’m coming back.” “Will you?” Her tone was almost indifferent, though she was aflame with triumph, inwardly. “That’s nice of you.” “I will if you’ll be glad to see me.” “Of course I will.” “Awfully glad?” he pressed. “Oh, I don’t know coquette.

about all that,” replied Pat, the

“You’re going to kiss me good-bye?” he pleaded “Perhaps. Just a little one.” When she had slipped from his embrace, her gaze was far away. “What are you thinking of now?” he asked jealously. “Of Connie.” “What of her?”

“I wonder where they are now.

I was thinking,” she