"Oh, you wonderful little thing--you darling!" He caught her to him again, but she twisted away and tucked one arm under his: "Don't, Duane; I want to see these things.

What a perfectly dear study of Miller's kiddies! Oh, it is too lovable, too adorable! You wouldn't sell that--would you ?" "Of course not; it's yours, Geraldine." After a moment she looked up at him: "Ours ?" she asked; but the smile faded once more from eyes and lips; she suffered him to lead her from canvas to canvas, approved them or remained silent, and presently turned and glanced toward the small iron bed.

Manner and gaze had become distrait.
"You think this will be comfortable, Duane ?" she inquired listlessly.
"Perfectly," he said.
She disengaged her hand from his, walked over to the lounge, turned, and signed for him to seat himself.

Then she dropped to her knees and settled down on the rug at his feet, laying her soft cheek against his arm.
"I have some things to tell you," she said in a low voice.
"Very serious things ?" he asked, smiling.
"Very." "All right; I am listening." "Very serious things," she repeated, gazing through the window, where green tree-tops swayed in the breezy sunlight; and she pressed her cheek closer to his arm.
"I have not been very--good," she said.
He looked at her, suppressed the smile that twitched at his mouth, and waited.
"I wish I could give myself to you as clean and sweet and untainted as--as you deserve....

I can't; and before we go any further I must tell you----" "Why, you blessed child," he exclaimed, half laughing, half serious.
"You are not going to confess to me, are you ?" "Duane, I've got to tell you everything.