She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders. F. And experience was slow in coming. " "Mother be——!" returned Jack. They’re just a joyous softening of the outline—more beautiful than perfection. Wait a second. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. After the dance, they went to a party. “What is the good of pretending?” she said.
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