"Yes," Flip said, blushing at his words. "I want to paint and paint. Everything in the world. Mostly people, though.
"Paul—" she asked, hesitantly.
"What?"
"It doesn't make you like me any less because—"
"Because what?"
"Because the girls at school don't like me...."
Paul looked at her severely. "You can't think much of me if you think I'd stop liking you just because a few silly girls in school haven't any sense. If they don't like you, it's because they don't know you. That's all."
"It's funny," Flip said, "how you can know someone for years and years and never know them and how you can know someone else all at once in no time at all. I'll never know Eunice. I'll always feel funny with her. But the very first day I saw you I felt as though I knew you, and when I'm with you I can talk.... I'd better go now. It's getting awfully late. See how dark the towns are getting down by the lake."
"Can you come back tomorrow?" Paul asked.
"Yes. I know they'll catch me sooner or later and then it'll be awful, but I'll come till they catch me."