A STORY WHICH EXPLAINS WHY MILDRED GRAHAM DECIDED, AS MANY OTHER GIRLS HAVE DECIDED BEFORE HER, THAT MEN ARE QUEER
By Elisabeth Sanxay Holding
SHE listened to his footsteps, going down and down the stone stairs, until the echo died away; and still she stood as if she were listening, one hand on the back of a chair, her lips parted, a faint frown on her brow.
But the silence settled about her, and even her own fast-beating heart and quickened breathing grew quieter.
“He’s gone,” she said aloud.
Very well! She had told him to go, and she wanted him to go. She turned away from the doorway and went toward her bedroom.
“I never should have let him call here,” she thought. “He doesn’t understand. He’s impossible. I knew it, too. I knew that if I gave him an inch, he’d take ells and ells!”
She was surprised and displeased to feel tears running down her cheeks.
“How silly!” she said to herself. “I’ll see him again to-morrow; and if he’s sorry—if he apologizes—”
She clasped her hands tight, struggling against a sob.