She found herself struggling with a storm of
tears. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion
demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin,
with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set
about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to
utter a word. 75
“Lucy’s going to Prom with John Diedermayer?”
Cathy nodded emphatically. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. ” She leaned against the back
wall of the place, sinking slowly. I worshipped women long before I found any woman I
might ever hope to worship. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage. "
"Ay; but I do mind her," cried Jack upon whom his comrade's observation had
produced the desired effect. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or
had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared
should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut
the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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