"Why--why, what do you mean?" stammered Barton.

"What do I mean?" quizzed little Eve Edgarton. "Why, I mean--that just
once before I go off to Nunko-Nono--I'd like to be--attractive!"

"Attractive?" stammered Barton helplessly.

With all the desperate, indomitable frankness of a child, the girl's
chin thrust itself forward.

"I could be attractive!" she said. "I could! I know I could! If I'd
ever let go just the teeniest--tiniest bit--I could have--beaux!" she
asserted triumphantly. "A thousand beaux!" she added more explicitly.
"Only--"

"Only what?" laughed Barton.

"Only one doesn't let go," said little Eve Edgarton.

"Why not?" persisted Barton.

"Why, you just--couldn't--with strangers," said little Eve Edgarton.
"That's the bewitchment of it."

"The bewitchment?" puzzled Barton.

Nervously the girl crossed her hands in her lap. She suddenly didn't
look like a doughty little soldier any more, but just like a worried
little girl.