When my friend needed me I
failed him. It hurts me, because--oh, you know. When the test came I
wasn't there. One hates to be a quitter."
Her humility distressed him, though he loved the spirit of her apology.
"It's all right, Bee. Don't you worry. All friends misunderstand each
other, but the real ones clear things up."
She had not yet told him the whole truth and she meant to make clean
confession.
"I've been a miserable little fool." She stopped with a little catch
of the breath, flamed red, and plunged on. Her level eyes never
flinched from his. "I've got to out with it, Clay. You won't
misunderstand, I know. I was jealous. I wanted to keep your
friendship to myself--didn't want to share it with another girl.
That's how mean I am."
A warm smile lit his face. "I've sure enough found my friend again
this mo'nin'."
Her smile met his. Then, lest barriers fall too fast between them, she
put her horse to a gallop.
As they moved into the Park a snorting automobile leaped past them with
muffler open. The horse upon which Beatrice rode was a young one. It
gave instant signals of alarm, went sunfishing on its hind legs, came
down to all fours, and bolted.
Beatrice kept her head. She put her weight on the reins with all the
grip of her small, strong hands. But the horse had the bit in its
teeth. She felt herself helpless, flying wildly down the road at
incredible speed. Bushes and trees, the reeling road, a limousine, a
mounted policeman, all flew by her with blurred detail.
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