was right. I know her better than you do. She’s an awfully good kid but not your kind at all. I think I feel as badly almost as you do about it.” He paused a moment and then said simply, “I was so proud of you, Hugh.”
"Don’t!” Hugh exclaimed. “I want to kill my¬ self when you say things like that.”
“You don’t understand. I know that you don’t understand. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since Prom, too. I Ve thought over a lot of things that you’ve said to me—about me, I mean. Why, Hugh, you think I’m not human. I don’t believe you think I have passions like the rest of you. Well, I do, and sometimes it’s—it’s awful. I’m telling you that so you ’ll understand that I know how you feel. But love’s beautiful to me, Hugh, the most wonderful thing in the world. I was in love with a girl once—and I know. She did n t give a hang for me; she thought I was a baby. I suffered awfully; but I know that my love was beautiful, as beautiful as—” He looked around for a simile—“as to-night. I think it’s because of that that I hate mugging and petting and that sort of thing. I don’t want beauty debased. I want to fight when orchestras jazz famous arias. Well, petting is jazzing love; and I hate it. Do you see what I mean?”
Hugh looked at him wonderingly. He did n’t know this Norry at all. “Yes,” he said slowly;
