“Not exclusively, Tom,” I said, in a firm tone. “We are both young, and know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet.”
He looked at me with a searching glanse.
“I’ll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying around, Bab,” he said savigely. “You’re that sort. All the fellows are sure to be crasy about you. And I don’t intend to be an Also-ran.”
“Perhaps,” I observed, in my most dignafied maner. “But no one has ever tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the Other Sex have always treated me with respect.”
I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on the pavment. It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start right.
But I was troubled and distrait during dinner, which consisted of mutton and custard, which have no appeal for me owing to having them to often at school. For I had, although not telling an untruth, allowed Tom to think that I had a dozen or so Frat pins, although I had none at all.
Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman can do when in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with Gile? In other words, to use her intellagence against brute force? I fear so.
Men do not expect truth from us, so why disapoint them?
During the salid mother inquired what I had done during the afternoon.
“I made a few purchaces,” I said.