pig rm
164
FLAMING
YOUTH
smeared my feelings. I thought you were going to be perfectly thrilled and I get no come-back at all! Don’t you like my voice even a little bit any more, Mr. Seott? You did, before.”
“There’s a quality in it that—that use!
But what's the
You won’t do any honest work with it.”
“You don’t think I’m any good at all, do you?” she said peevishly. “We were talking about your music, weren’t we?” “Ah, but I’ve done
you.
a lot besides music
since I saw
And I’ve been fearfully good and proper.
<Aren*t
you proud?”
“Of you? Very,” he smiled. “Of your influence.” She took a fold of his sleeve between finger and thumb and idly pleated at it, keeping her intent gaze fixed there. ‘“Nobody’s ever had half so much over me. I’ve always done exactly what I liked and never done anything I didn’t like.” “It’s a delightful world, isn’t it, Pat?
But sometimes
those things have to be paid for.” At this she raised her eyes, thoughtful and honest eyes, now a little shadowed. “I’ve always known that. And
Pll always be ready to pay. I'm not yellow, Mr. Scott. if there’s a—a
Whatever else I may be, Ill take what I can get, and
comeback, I'll take that, too.”
“Yes. You've got courage. Ca se voit. That sees itself.” He had dropped unconsciously into the emphatic French idiom. “Does it? How can you tell? You don’t know me se well,” “No; I don’t.”
Yes, you do,” she contradicted him and herself. “I think you know me better than anyone ever has.” Again she let her glance fall.
