Page:The Tattooed Countess (1924).pdf/95

 distinguishable from the cetton, with the tips of her long, slender fingers. They were still warm.

Poor, little mother bird, she murmured.

O, that's all right, Gareth asserted cheerfully, and then, abruptly changing the subject, he asked, Miss Colman, what college would you advise me to go to, if I could go?

I don't know what to tell you, Gareth. There are so many good colleges. Chicago is the nearest. . . of the big ones.

I don't know that I want to be near. I want to get away from this town. I do want to go to a city, though, not another small town. I'm tired of small places. I want to visit the theatre and the opera and the art galleries. I want to meet people. I want to learn. Somewhere, there must be more people like me, heaps of 'em.

She was silent for a moment, digging her clumsy boot into the clay. When, at last, she spoke, her tone was rather resigned than bitter: You'll forget your old friends.

I won't forget you, Miss Colman. You've certainly been dandy to me.

You'll forget everybody.

He did not appear to have heard this. He stood looking out over the water, whistling softly to himself the trio from The Stars and Stripes For everForever [sic]. Quite suddenly he ceased, and flung himself on the ground. I can't get any dirtier than I am already, he explained. Then another