up my mind that I won’t take part in another one, and before I know it somebody’s telling me the latest and I’m listening for all I’m worth.”
“That’s easy,” Melville Burbank answered. He was a junior with a brilliant record. “You ’re nerely sublimating your sex instincts, that’s all. [f you played around with cheap women more, you svould n’t be thinking about sex all the time and alking smut.”
‘"You’re crazy!” It was Keith Nutter talking, l sophomore notorious for his dissipations. “Hell, ’’m out with bags all the time, as you damn well mow. My sex instincts don’t need sublimating, or vhatever you call it, and I talk smut as much as anybody—more than some.”
“Perhaps you ’re just naturally dirty,” Burbank aid, his voice edged with sarcasm. He didn’t Le Nutter. The boy seemed gross to him.
“Go to hell! I’m no dirtier than anybody else.” Gutter was not only angry but frankly hurt. “The nly difference between me and the rest of you guys » that I admit that I chase around with rats, and be rest of you do it on the sly. I’m no hypocrite.”
“Oh, come off, Keith,” Gordon Ross said quietly; you ’re not fair. I admit that lots of the fellows re chasing around with rats on the sly, but lots of lem are n’t, too. More fellows go straight around us college than you think. I know a number that ave never touched a woman. They just hate to
