"Your friend Mr.
Hirst's interested, I daresay however, I do believe in you.

You look as if you'd got a nice sister, somehow." She paused, picking at some sequins on her knees, and then, as if she had made up her mind, she started off, "Anyhow, I'm going to ask your advice.

D'you ever get into a state where you don't know your own mind?
That's the state I'm in now.
You see, last night at the dance Raymond Oliver,--he's the tall dark boy who looks as if he had Indian blood in him, but he says he's not really,--well, we were sitting out together, and he told me all about himself, how unhappy he is at home, and how he hates being out here.
They've put him into some beastly mining business.

He says it's beastly--I should like it, I know, but that's neither here nor there.
And I felt awfully sorry for him, one couldn't help being sorry for him, and when he asked me to let him kiss me, I did.

I don't see any harm in that, do you?
And then this morning he said he'd thought I meant something more, and I wasn't the sort to let any one kiss me.