"Aren't you glad for me, Kathleen? What is it? Why do you—" And all at once she divined, and the hot colour stained her from brow to throat. Kathleen bent forward swiftly and caught her in her arms with a smothered cry; but the girl freed herself and leaned back, breathing fast.
"Duane knows about me," she said. "I told him."
"He knew before you told him, my darling."
Another wave of scarlet swept Geraldine's face.
"That is true.... He found out—last April.... But he and I are not afraid. I promised him—" And her voice failed as the memory of the night's indulgence flashed in her brain.
Kathleen began: "You promised me, too—" And her voice also failed.
There was a silence; the girl's eyes turned miserably toward the dressing-table, closed with a slow, inward breath which ended like a sob; and again she was in Kathleen's arms—struggled from them only to drop her head on Kathleen's knees and lie, tense face hidden, both hands clenched. The wave of grief and shame swept her and passed.
After a while she spoke in a hard little voice:
"It is foolish to say I cannot control myself.... I did not think what I was doing last night—that was all. Duane knows my danger—tendency, I mean. He isn't worried; he knows that I can take care of myself——"
"Don't marry him until you know you can."