Page:Flaming Youth black on red.pdf/50
be 46
FLAMING
s:
YOUTH
7
“J wrote to him,” said Pat suddenly.
“You did?”
The three incredulous voices blended.
“Yes, I did. He wrote to me. He was terribly sorry.” “Sorry for what?” asked Dee.
-
He asked me te answer,
“For—for acting that way. He seemed to think he'd hurt my feelings or something. I teld him it was just as much my fault as his.” “Did you, little Pat?* look
into
the
queer,
Her mother leaned forward to defiant,
chivalrous
Hittle
face.
“Perhaps you're older than I thought. But I shouldn't write any more, if I were you.” “T won't.” Mona went out, followed by her youngest. In the hallway, Pat gave her mother a light, familiar, shy pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for standing by me,” she said awkwardly. “Did I stand by you?” returned Mona. “I wonder if [{ stand by you enough.” Inside the room, Dee mused with a thoughtful, frowning face. “Think of the Scrub! she muttered. “What of her?” asked Constance. “Feeling that way. Already.“ There was a hint of unconscious envy in her manner. “About a man!” She sighed and shook her head incredulously. “It gets me,” she confessed. “Don’t you like to have a man you like Kiss you?” inquired Constance curiously. Dee meditated. “I don*t mind it,” she answered. “But I'd rather run down a long putt, any day.” To Dr. Robert Osterhout, whom she sought out after
her return from luncheon (with Stevens Selfridge) Mona detailed the conversation with and about Pat.