"
Her lips were quivering. A single glance into her face assured him
of her honesty. He took the hand which she held out and pressed her
fingers.
"Little Julie," he said, "you are a brick. Don't you bother about
me. It isn't quite so bad as I made out - only don't tell your
mother that."
"I'm very glad," she murmured. "I think that it is hateful of them
all to rush away, and I made up my mind to say goodbye however
angry it made them. Let me go now, please. I want to get back
before mamma misses me."
He passed his arm around her tiny waist. She looked at him with
frightened eyes.
"Please let me go," she murmured.
He kissed her lips, and a moment afterwards vaguely repented it.
She buried her face in her hands and ran away sobbing. Trent lit
a cigar and sat down upon a garden seat.
"It's a queer thing," he said reflectingly. "The girl's been
thrown repeatedly at my head for a week and I might have kissed her
at any moment, before her father and mother if I had liked, and
they'd have thanked me. Now I've done it I'm sorry. She looked
prettier than I've ever seen her too - and she's the only decent
one of the lot. Lord! what a hubbub there'll be in the morning!"
The stars came out and the moon rose, and still Scarlett Trent
lingered in the scented darkness.
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