Margie looks to see if her mother is watching when she bows to me.

Isn't it strange, Daren, how things turn out?
Maybe my old friends are right.
But I don't _feel_ that I am what they think I am....

I would do what I did--over and over." Her eyes darkened under his gaze, and a slow crimson tide stained her white face.
"I understand you, Mel," he said, swiftly.

"You must forgive me that I didn't understand at once....

And I think you are infinitely better, finer, purer than these selfsame girls who scorn you." "Daren! You--understand ?" she faltered.
And just as swiftly he told her the revelation that thinking had brought to him.
When he had finished she looked at him for a long while.