It was quite
plain that Bob, with his extreme gallantry of manner, his smart
clothes, his high ways and his unconquerable gayety, had
supplanted him on the pedestal where he had been the year before,
just as somebody, somewhere--his sister, perhaps--had supplanted
Miss Anne. Several times indeed June had corrected Hale's slips of
tongue with mischievous triumph, and once when he came back late
from a long trip in the mountains and walked in to dinner without
changing his clothes, Hale saw her look from himself to the
immaculate Bob with an unconscious comparison that half amused,
half worried him. The truth was he was building a lovely
Frankenstein and from wondering what he was going to do with it,
he was beginning to wonder now what it might some day do with him.
And though he sometimes joked with Miss Anne, who had withdrawn
now to the level plane of friendship with him, about the
transformation that was going on, he worried in a way that did
neither his heart nor his brain good. Still he fought both to
little purpose all that summer, and it was not till the time was
nigh when June must go away again, that he spoke both.
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