And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. ” “How are the Becks doing? Are they okay?” He smiled. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex.
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