The Story of Julia Page by Kathleen Thompson Norris
page 68 of 512 (13%)
page 68 of 512 (13%)
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into her manner she went on, "Why, what is it?"
Young Rosenthal glanced at her friends, and, formally offering her his arm, said seriously: "You will walk with me?" "We were going down to Haas's for ice-cream sodas," Julia submitted hesitatingly. "Well, I will take you there," Mark said. And as the others, nodding good-naturedly at this, drifted on ahead, Julia found herself walking down O'Farrell Street on the arm of a tall and handsome man. It was the first time that she had done just this thing--or if not the first time, it had never seemed to have any particular significance before. Now, however, Julia felt in her heart a little flutter of satisfaction. Somehow Mark did not seem just a commonplace member of the "Rosenthal gang" to-night, nor did she seem "the Page kid." Mark was a man, and--thrilling thought!--was angry at Julia, and Julia, hanging on his arm, with a hundred street lights flashing on her little powdered nose and saucy hat, was at last a "young lady!" "What's the matter, Mark?" she asked, by way of opening the conversation. "Oh, nothing whatever!" Mark answered, in a rich, full voice, and with elaborate irony. "You promised to go to the Orpheum with me, and I waited--and I waited--and you did not come. But that is nothing, of course!" Julia's anger smote her dumb for a moment. Then she jerked her arm from |
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