” She went on, with a desperate attempt to be easy and colloquial: “You see, we were rather good friends, I thought, and now perhaps it will be difficult for us to get back to the old friendly footing. After all, this could never be the black sheep. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. They must be for your father. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you.
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