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The Gay Cockade by Temple Bailey
page 41 of 366 (11%)
"I don't like different people," and in that sentence was a summary of
Anthony's prejudices. He and Nancy mingled with their own kind.
Anthony's friends were the men who had gone to the right schools, who
lived in the right streets, belonged to the right clubs, and knew the
right people. Within those limits, humanity might do as it pleased;
without them, it was negligible, and not to be considered.

After supper the five of them were to go for a sail. There was a moon,
and all the wonder of it.

Anthony was not keen about the plan. "Oh, look here, Nancy," he
complained, "we have done enough for one day--"

"I haven't."

Of course that settled it. Anthony shrugged his shoulders and submitted.
He did not share Nancy's almost idolatrous worship of the sea. It was
the one fundamental thing about her. She bathed in it, swam in it,
sailed on it, and she was never quite happy away from it.

I heard Anthony later in the hall, protesting. I had gone to the library
for a book, and their voices reached me.

"I thought you and I might have one evening without the others."

"Oh, don't be silly, Anthony."

I think my heart lost a beat. Here was a lover asking his mistress for a
moment--and she laughed at him. It did not fit in with my ideas of young
romance.
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