Zane Grey The_Day_Of_The

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voice that everybody heard: 'I'd like to try your camel-walk. I'm out
of practice and not strong, but I can go once around, I'm sure. Will
you?'"
'You're on, Dare,' replied Fanchon.
Then he asked. 'Do you like it?'
'I'll say so, Dare--crazy about it.'
'Of course you know why it's danced--and how it's interpreted by
men,' said Daren.
'What do you mean?' asked Fanchon, growing red and flustered.
"Then Daren said: 'I'll tell your mother. If she lets you dance with
that understanding--all right.' He bent over Mrs. Smith and said
something. Mrs. Wrapp heard it. And so did Mrs. Mackay, who looked
pretty sick. Mrs. Smith nearly _fainted_!... but she recovered enough
to order Daren to leave."
"Do you know what Daren said?" demanded Margaret, in a frenzy of
excitement.
"No. None of the girls know. We can only imagine. That makes it worse.
If Fanchon knows she won't tell. But it is gossip all over town. We'll
hear it soon. All the girls in town are imagining. It's spread like
wildfire. And what _do_ you think, Margie? In church--on
Sunday--Doctor Wallace spoke of it. He mentioned no names. But he said
that as the indecent dress and obscene dance of the young women could
no longer be influenced by the home or the church it was well that one
young man had the daring to fling the truth into the faces of their
mothers."
"Oh, it was rotten of Daren," replied Margaret, with tears in her
eyes. She was ashamed, indignant, incredulous. "For him to do a thing
like that! He's always been the very prince of gentlemen. What on
earth possessed him? Heaven knows the dances are vile, but that
doesn't excuse Daren Lane. What do I care what Doctor Wallace said?
Never in a thousand years will Mrs. Smith or mother or any one forgive
him. Fanchon Smith is a little snob. I always hated her. She's
spiteful and catty. She's a flirt all the way. She would dance any old
thing. But that's not the point. Daren's disgraced himself. It was
rotten--of him. And--I'll never--forgive--him, either."
"Don't cry, Margie," said Elinor. "It always makes your eyes red and
gives you a headache. Poor Daren made a blunder. But some of us will
stick to him. Don't take it so badly."
"Margie, it was rotten of Daren, one way you look at it--our way,"
added Flossie. "But you have to hand it to him for that stunt."
Helen Wrapp preserved her sombre mood, silent and brooding.
"Margie," went on Elinor, "there's a lot back of this. If Dare Lane
could do that there must be some reason for it. Maybe we all needed a
jolt. Well, we've got it. Let's stand by Daren. I will. Helen will.
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Floss will. You will. And surely Dal will."
"If you ask _me_ I'll say Dare Lane ought to hand something to the
men!" burst out Floss Dickerson, with fire in her eyes.
"You said a mouthful, kiddo," responded Helen, with her narrow
contracted gaze upon Margaret. "Daren gave me the once over--and then
the icepick!"
"Wonder what he gave poor Mel--when he heard about her," murmured
Elinor, thoughtfully.
"Mel Iden ought to be roasted," retorted Helen. "She was always so
darned superior. And all the time...."
"Helen, don't you say a word against Mel Iden," burst out Margaret,
hotly. "She was my dearest friend. She was lovely. Her ruin was a
horrible shock. But it wasn't because she was bad.... Mel had some
fanatical notion about soldiers giving all--going away to be
slaughtered. She said to me, 'A woman's body is so little to give,'"
"Yes, I know Mel was cracked," replied Helen. "But she needn't have
been a damn fool. She didn't need to have had that baby!"
"Helen, your idea of sin is to be found out," said Elinor, with
satire.
Again Floss Dickerson dropped her trenchant personality into the
breach.
"Aw, come off!" she ejaculated. "Let somebody roast the men once, will
you? I'm the little Jane that _knows_, believe me. All this talk about
the girls going to hell makes me sick. We may be going--and going in
limousines--but it's the men who're stepping on the gas."
"Floss, I love to hear you elocute," drawled Helen. "Go to it! For
God's sake, roast the men."
"You always have to horn in," retorted Floss. "Let me get this off my
chest, will you?... We girls are getting talked about. There's no use
denying it. Any but a blind girl could see it. And it's because we do
what the men want. Every girl wants to go out--to be attractive--to
have fellows. But the price is getting high. They say in Middleville
that I'm rushed more than any other girl. Well, if I am I know what it
costs.... If I didn't 'pet'--if I didn't mush, if I didn't park my
corsets at dances--if I didn't drink and smoke, and wiggle like a
jelly-fish, I'd be a dead one--an egg, and don't you overlook that. If
any one says I _want_ to do these things he's a fool. But I do love to
have good times, and little by little I've been drawn on and on....
I've had my troubles staving off these fellows. Most of them get half
drunk. Some of the girls do, too. I never went that far. I always kept
my head. I never went the limit. But you can bet your sweet life it
wasn't their fault I didn't fall for them.... I'll say I've had to
walk home from more than one auto ride. There's something in the gag, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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