"
"Very proper and official! Now," added the girl in a different manner,
"let's stop talking nonsense, and do you tell me one thing honestly. Do
you feel that it would be presumption?"
"To fall in love with you?"
"Leave that part of it out; I put my question stupidly. I'm really
curious to know whether you feel any--any difference between your
station and mine."
"Do you?"
"Yes; I do," she answered honestly, "when I think of it. But you make it
very hard for me to remember it when I'm with you."
"Well, I don't," he said. "I suppose I'm a socialist in all matters of
that kind. Not that I've ever given much thought to them. You don't have
to out here."
"No; you wouldn't. I don't know that _you_ would have to anywhere....
Are we almost home?"
"Three minutes' more walking. Tired?"
"Not a bit. You know," she added, "I really would like it if you'd write
me once in a while. There's something here I'd like to keep a hold on.
It's tonic. I'll _make_ you write me." She flashed a smile at him.
"How?"
"By sending you books. You'll have to acknowledge them."
"No. I couldn't take them. I'd have to send them back."
"You wouldn't let me send you a book or two just as a friendly memento?"
she cried, incredulous.
"I don't take anything from anybody," he retorted doggedly.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121