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’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. You cannot arrest yourself. His eyes were closed.
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