"I thought," she continued with the pert, self-confident smile, "that you
were my sister Nellie. I'm waiting for her."
"You're in early tonight," said Howard, the circles under her eyes
reminding him of what the German had told him.
"I haven't slept much for a week," the girl replied, "I'm nearly dead. But
I won't go to bed till Nellie comes."
Howard was about to turn when she went on: "We agreed always to stay
together. She broke it tonight. My fellow got too fresh, so I came home.
She said she'd come too. That was an hour ago and she isn't here yet."
"Isn't she rather young to be out alone at this time?"
Howard could hardly have told why he continued the conversation. He
certainly would not, had she been less beautiful or less lonely and
childish. At his remark about her sister's youth she laughed with an
expression of cunning at once amusing and pitiful.
"She's a year older than me," she said, "and I guess I can take care of
myself. Still she hasn't much sense. She'll get into trouble yet. She
doesn't understand how to manage the boys when they're too fresh."
"But you do, I suppose?" suggested Howard.
"Indeed I do," with a quick nod of her small graceful head, "I know what
I'm about. _My_ mother taught _me_ a few things.
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