Philip left the next day;
do you remember? And Eileen has never been quite the same. Of course, I
don't ascribe it to that unpleasant episode--even a young girl gets over
a shock in a day. But the--the change--or whatever it is--dated from
that night. . . . They--Philip and Eileen--had been inseparable. It was
good for them--for her, too. And as for Phil--why, he looked about
twenty-one! . . . Boots, I--I had hoped--expected--and I was right! They
_were_ on the verge of it!"
"I think so, too," he said.
She looked up curiously.
"Did Philip ever say--"
"No; he never _says_, you know."
"I thought that men--close friends--sometimes did."
"Sometimes--in romantic fiction. Phil wouldn't; nor," he added
smilingly, "would I."
"How do you know, Boots?" she asked, leaning back to watch him out of
mischievous eyes. "How do you know what you'd do if you were in
love--with Gladys, for example?"
"I know perfectly well," he said, "because I am."
"In love!" incredulously.
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