I'm no hypocrite--I'm anything else; but as much as I'd love to have a
young man I cared for kiss me, I'd die in my tracks before I'd let 'im
put his arm around me if I thought it would make 'im think less of me.
Do you reckon" (she was avoiding Harriet's eyes)--"do you think that
would make any difference with Toot--I mean, with any young man?"
Harriet smiled in spite of the look of gravity in Hettie's eyes.
"Some men might be that way," she finally said, consolingly--she was
thinking of the innate coarseness of Hettie's lover--"but I don't think
Mr. Wambush is. That was one of the first things my mother ever taught
me. She told me she'd learned it by experience when she was a girl. I
don't pretend to be better than other girls, but I've always made men
keep their distance."
Hettie shrugged her shoulders, as if to throw off some unpleasant idea.
"Oh, I don't care. I'd do it over again. Lord, I couldn't help it. I
love him so, and he is so sweet and good when he tries to be. He
thinks I'm all right, too, in some ways. He says I'm just the girl to
marry a dare-devil like he is.
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