. "Wild women" : the romance of a flapper . WILD WOI know anyone else on Earth when sisterMay is around--but some people are I half a chance I could bestow a Worldof Affection--! have it in me, being naturallya warm-hearted person, like Dad, and notan iceberg like others in the family. Mr. Jack is living at our house for theremainder of this school term--the FraternityHouse where he was living having burneddown, as you will remember after that Ex-citing Story in the newspapers, how he rescuedhis pet bulldog who was overcome with smoke,and was cast out in the world homeless by thefire
. "Wild women" : the romance of a flapper . WILD WOI know anyone else on Earth when sisterMay is around--but some people are I half a chance I could bestow a Worldof Affection--! have it in me, being naturallya warm-hearted person, like Dad, and notan iceberg like others in the family. Mr. Jack is living at our house for theremainder of this school term--the FraternityHouse where he was living having burneddown, as you will remember after that Ex-citing Story in the newspapers, how he rescuedhis pet bulldog who was overcome with smoke,and was cast out in the world homeless by thefire. (Mr. Jack, of course, not the bulldog.)So father told Bill he might invite Mr. Jack tolive with us for the short time until the closeof school. But I deterioate. I turned to sister May and put the ques-tion up to her in a civil manner. Love—what is it, sister May? Can youtell me? Sister May—she spells it M A E—saidpointedly, looking down at her plate (Mr. WILD WOMEN 13 Jack was watching her—I could see his BareSoul in his eyes):. I could see his Bare Soul in his eyes. I do not waste my time thinking aboutsuch silly things as Love. I am not the leastinterested in such subjects. The only thingthat could possibly interest me in any MANis Money. Then she flushed a little shame-facedly atthis cold-blooded confession and added withthe indifferent little laugh she always useswhen fussed: Of course, that sounds mercenary I know,but Love wont build houses! And one Mustlive, you know. And Poor Mr. Jack. He dropped his 14 WILD WOMEN eyes in dispair. I could see the flood ofPassion overwhelming him. I longed to com-fort him—my heart throbbed and such words as he uttered—oh! they werewonderful, but not the truth as yet. Love, was the thrilling reply, is a blessingthat only a woman can bestow—a woman thatwants to build a home, not a reputation.
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