Has wound itself around my heart.”
Underneath was written “Captain Bannister,” in a bold, masculine hand.
I buried the chocolates in the depths of my shirtwaist box where no profane eye could see them or profane tooth bite into them. I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I just couldn’t bear to pass his chocolates around to the crowd and hear Agony’s delighted squeal as she dove into them,
“Come on, girls, have one on Hinpoha’s latest crush!”
For Agony has absolutely no understanding of affairs of the heart—everything is a “crush” to her.
The chocolates were fine and I ate a great many of them, thinking of my Captain all the while, and wondering when I would see him again.
“Hinpoha, what on earth is the matter with you?” said Gladys that night. “You didn’t eat a bite of supper and you’re as pale as a ghost. Have you upset your stomach again?”
I drew myself up haughtily. The idea! To call this delicious turmoil in my bosom an upset stomach! I was glad I looked pale. I am usually as red as a beet. It was more in keeping with the way I felt to be pale.
“I am not myself,” I replied loftily, “but it’s not my stomach.”
“Go to bed, honey,” said Gladys, “and I’ll bring you a glass of hot water.”