If she
talked, still he was silent. What WAS he thinking about?
What did he think of her?--that especially.
``What ARE you thinking?'' she interrupted herself
to say one afternoon as they sat together on the strand
under a big sunshade. She had been talking on and on
about her career--talking conceitedly, as her subject
intoxicated her--telling him what triumphs awaited
her as soon as she should be ready to debut. As he
did not answer, she repeated her question, adding:
``I knew you weren't listening to me, or I shouldn't
have had the courage to say the foolish things I did.''
``No, I wasn't,'' admitted he.
``Why not?''
``For the reason you gave.''
``That what I said was--just talk?''
``Yes.''
``You don't believe I'll do those things?''
``Do you?''
``I've GOT to believe it,'' said she. ``If I didn't--''
She came to a full stop.
``If you didn't, then what?'' It was the first time
he had ever flattered her with interest enough to ask
her a question about herself.
``If I didn't believe I was going to succeed--and
succeed big--'' she began.
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