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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Bab: a Sub-Deb"

How is this thing possible? Can I love
to members of the Other Sex? And if such is the Case, how can I go on
with my Life? Better far to end it now, than to perchance marry one, and
find the other still in my heart. The terrable thought has come to me
that I am fickel.
Fickel or polygamus--which?
Dear Dairy, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions have
gone to airey nothing.
The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening,
spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a newspaper.
(Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I sat in my chamber,
I grew more and more desolate. I love Life, although pessamistic at
times. And it seemed hard that I should be there, in exile, while my
Sister, only 20 months older, was jumping at her chance below.
At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I looked in
it. I though, if it looked all right, I might hang over the stairs and
see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never again shall I so
call him.
I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite well,
although tight at the waste for me, owing to Basket Ball. It was also
to low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four inches of my
LINGERIE showed. As it had been hard as anything to hook, I was obliged
to take the scizzors and cut off the said LINGERIE. The result was good,
although very DECOLLTE. I have no bones in my neck, or practicaly so.
And now came my moment of temptation.


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