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Rh hia,” he said desperately. “We ’re both evading. ’ have n’t any sense left, but what I say from now >n I am going to say straight out. I swore on the rain that I wouldn’t kiss you. I knew that I yould n’t be able to think if I did—and I can’t; all f know is that I want to kiss you again.” He looked at her sitting across the little table from turn, so slender and still—a different Cynthia but llamnably desirable. “Cynthia,” he added hoarsely, [‘if you took my hand, you could lead me to L ell.”

I She in turn looked at him. He was much older han he had been a year before. Then he had been i boy; now he seemed a man. He had not changed particularly; he was as blond and young and clean s ever, but there was something about his mouth nd eyes, something more serious and more stern, hat made him seem years older.

“I don’t want to lead you to hell, honey,” she eplied softly. “I left Prom last year so that I /ould n’t do that. I told you then that I was n’t ood for you—but I’m different now.”

“I can see that. I don’t know what it is, but ou ’re different, awfully different. He leaned orward suddenly. “Cynthia, shall we go over to ersey and get married? I understand that^one an there right away. We ’re both of age

“Wait, Hugh; wait.” Cynthia’s hands were ghtly clasped in her lap. “Are you sure that you