The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. \" \"Not this Saturday, sweetie. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. Now, I'll be getting along. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. E.
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