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FLAMING

YOUTH

“How long did the bambina stay?” “We had a long talk. Bob, did you notice any change in Pat?” “No; I don’t think I did.

I wasn’t thinking about her.”

Mona’s beautiful eyes grew pensive. “But you were right about her; what you said before.” “As to what?” “She is going to be attractive to men in her own queer style. There’s something about her, a femininity—no, a sheer femaleness that’s going to make trouble.” “For her or for others?”

“For her possibly, because of its effect on others. She understands it a little herself, already, for she’s very precocious. And she’s proud of it. But she’s afraid of it, too.

Such a talk as we’ve had!

She’s a frank little

beast. Your respectable hairs would have stood on end. I’ve been frank with her, too. I had to be; there may not

be much time.

Moritwri te—what’s the silly Latin, Bob?

. « » Oh, don’t look like that, my dear!

I didn*t mean te

hurt you. And I’ve hurt you so much, haven*t I?” “Tt doesn’t matter.” “Because you’re so good to me. So it does matter. Why are you so good to me, Bob?” “You know, Mona.”

“But I want to hear you say it. ... No; I don’t! That’s my badness coming out again. And I’m going to be good now in the time remaining to me. Can’t you see me, with a saintly expression of face and piously folded hands, waiting submissively like—like somebody on a sampler? Somebody very woolly?” In spite of his pain he smiled. “That’s better,” she cried gaily. “Cheer up. I want you in good mood because I’ve something to ask you. There’s something I want you awfully to do, and yor won’t want to do it.”