218
THE PLASTIC AGE
As the days went by and he thought more and
more about the dance, he began to doubt his indignation. Wasn’t he after all a prude to get so
hot? Wasn’t he perhaps a prig, a sissy? At
times he thought that he was; at other times he
was sure that he wasn’t. He could be permanently
sure of only one thing, that he was a cynic.
