It's only the gushing and spooning and sentimentalizing that I can't endure.

I never could, even as a child." Phebe sat suddenly upright, away from Gerald.

Perhaps even the mute caress of her attitude jarred upon her friend.

"To me the half of being loved would be the being told so," she said.

"I should never weary of hearing it said over and over again." "Bah!" ejaculated Gerald, "it would make me sick!" She got up as if the very thought were too much for her, and going to the window stood still there looking out.