I had to take off my gloves to lace it up, and I did it heroically, with bent head and outward calm, when all the time I was mad to snatch the girl out of the saddle and hold her tight or run off with her or do some other fool thing.
"Russ, I believe Diane's in love with Steele," she said soberly, with the sweet confidence she sometimes manifested in me.
"Small wonder.

It's in the air," I replied.
She regarded me doubtfully.
"It was," she retorted demurely.
"The fickleness of women is no new thing to me.

I didn't expect Waters to last long." "Certainly not when there are nicer fellows around.

One, anyway, when he cares." A little brown hand slid out of its glove and dropped to my shoulder.
"Make up.

You've been hateful lately.