12
FLAMING
YOUTH
“No. Not too much.” “No more flutters for pretty Mona,” she mused. “At least she’s had her share. Do you think Ralph cares?” “You’re the one to know that.” “Tf he does, he’s never given any sign. But then, it’s years since he’s been true to me.” Her companion made a slight, uninterpretable gesture. “Shall I tell him?
Your verdict, I mean.”
“Great Judas, no! Why stir him up? It’s going to. be hard enough on him anyway.” “Ts it?” she said wistfully. ‘He'll miss me in a way, won’t he?
I am fond of him, too, you know.”
“Yes. I understand that.” “But you don’t understand why I’ve gone trouble-hunting, out of bounds.” “Yes.
I understand that, too.”
“Perhaps you do. would
You understand lots more than one
think from your dear,
old,
stupid
face.”
She
paused. “Tell me something, honestly, Bob. Has there been much talk about me?” “Oh, there’s always talk and always will be about anyone as brilliant and vivid as you.” “Don’t evade. Some of the older crowd igak’sat me as if they thought I was the Scarlet Woman come back to
life.
I’m not the Scarlet Woman, Bob.
Only a dash of
pink.” He smiled indulgently. “It’s strange,” she mused, “how the tradition of be haviour clings in the blood, in that set. Your set, Bob. Ah, well! Discretion is the better part of virtue, as someone said. And I haven’t been discreet, even if I have been virtuous. You believe I’ve been, don’t you, Bob?” “What, discreet?”
