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THE PLASTIC AGE

Slade’s clumsy admiration, and he felt weak, emotionally exhausted after his little spree. “It’s awfully good of you to—to think of me that way I’m—I’m glad you stopped me.”

Slade stood up. He felt that he had better be going. He could n’t tell Hugh how much he liked and admired him, how much he envied him. He was altogether sentimental about the boy, entirely devoted to him. He had wanted to talk to Hugh more than Hugh had wanted to talk to him, but he had never felt that he had anything to offer that could possibly interest Hugh. It was a strange situation; the hero had put the hero worshiper or a high, white marble pedestal. He moved toward the door. “So long,” he said as casually as he could.

Hugh jumped up and rushed to him. “I ’rr awfully grateful to you, Harry,” he said im¬ pulsively. “It was damn white of you. I—I don’t know how to thank you.” He held out his hand. Slade gripped it for a moment, and then, mutter¬ ing another “So long,” passed out of the door.

Hugh was more confused than ever and grev steadily more confused as the days passed. He could n’t understand why Slade, frankly unchaste himself, should consider his chastity so important He was genuinely glad that Slade had rescued him genuinely grateful, but his confusion about all thing! sexual was more confounded. The strangest thing