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Various

"The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story"

The bullfighters and the princes would
come--"
"But how--?" I started, and stopped, for Deolda had dropped beside the
chest and pressed her face in the shawl, and I remembered that her
mother was dead only a few days ago, and I couldn't ask her how the
great dancer came to be in Dennisport in the cabin under the dunes. I
tiptoed out, my heart thrilled with romance for the gypsy dancer's
daughter.
When my aunt was ready for bed there was no Deolda. Later came the sound
of footsteps and my aunt's voice in the hall outside my room.
"That you, Deolda?"
"Yes'm."
"Where were you all evening?"
"Oh, just out under the lilacs."
"For pity's sake! Out under the lilacs! What were you doing out there?"
Deolda's voice came clear and tranquil. "Making love with Johnny
Deutra."
I held my breath. What can you do when a girl tells the truth unabashed.
"I've known Johnny Deutra ever since he came from the Islands, Deolda,"
my aunt said, sternly. "He'll mean it when he falls in love."
"I know it," said Deolda, with a little breathless catch in her voice.
"He's only a kid. He's barely twenty," my aunt went on, inexorably.
"He's got to help his mother. He's not got enough to marry; any girl who
married him would have to live with the old folks. Look where you're
going, Deolda.


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