truc tiep da ga thomo hom nay

鈥淔rom everybody鈥攆or all the years since you've been away.鈥� She blushed appropriately. On her right Froggy was hors de combat already, although he hadn't quite realized it. 鈥淚'll tell you what I remembered about you all these years,鈥� Amory continued. She leaned slightly toward him and looked modestly at the celery before her. Froggy sighed鈥攈e knew Amory, and the situations that Amory seemed born to handle. He turned to Sally and asked her if she was going away to school next year. Amory opened with grape-shot. 鈥淚've got an adjective that just fits you.鈥� This was one of his favorite starts鈥攈e seldom had a word in mind, but it was a curiosity provoker, and he could always produce something complimentary if he got in a tight corner. 鈥淥h鈥攚hat?鈥� Isabelle's face was a study in enraptured curiosity. Amory shook his head. 鈥淚 don't know you very well yet.鈥� 鈥淲ill you tell me鈥攁fterward?鈥� she half whispered. He nodded. 鈥淲e'll sit out.鈥� Isabelle nodded. 鈥淒id any one ever tell you, you have keen eyes?鈥� she said. Amory attempted to make them look even keener. He fancied, but he was not sure, that her foot had just touched his under the table. But it might possibly have been only the table leg. It was so hard to tell. Still it thrilled him. He wondered quickly if there would be any difficulty in securing the little den up-stairs. BABES IN THE WOODS Isabelle and Amory were distinctly not innocent, nor were they particularly brazen. Moreover, amateur standing had very little value in the game they were playing, a game that would presumably be her principal study for years to come. She had begun as he had, with good looks and an excitable temperament, and the rest was the result of accessible popular novels and dressing-room conversation culled from a slightly older set. Isabelle had walked with an artificial gait at nine and a half, and when her eyes, wide and starry, proclaimed the ingenue most. Amory was proportionately less deceived. He waited for the mask to drop off, but at the same time he did not question her right to wear it. She, on her part, was not impressed by his studied air of blas茅 sophistication. She had lived in a larger city and had slightly an advantage in range. But she accepted his pose鈥攊t was one of the dozen little conventions of this kind of affair. He was aware that he was getting this particular favor now because she had been coached; he knew that he stood for merely the best game in sight, and that he would have to improve his opportunity before he lost his advantage. So they proceeded with an infinite guile that would have horrified her parents. After the dinner the dance began... smoothly. Smoothly?鈥攂oys cut in on Isabelle every few feet and then squabbled in the corners with: 鈥淵ou might let me get more than an inch!鈥� and 鈥淪he didn't like it either鈥攕he told me so next time I cut in.鈥� It was true鈥攕he told every one so, and gave every hand a parting pressure that said: 鈥淵ou know that your dances are making my evening.鈥� But time passed, two hours of it, and the less subtle beaux had better learned to focus their pseudo-passionate glances elsewhere, for eleven o'clock found Isabelle and Amory sitting on the couch in the little den off the reading-room up-stairs. She was conscious that they were a handsome pair, and seemed to belong distinctively in this seclusion, while lesser lights fluttered and chattered down-stairs. Boys who passed the door looked in enviously鈥攇irls who passed only laughed and frowned and grew wise within themselves. They had now reached a very definite stage. They had traded accounts of their progress since they had met last, and she had listened to much she had heard before. He was a sophomore, was on the Princetonian board, hoped to be chairman in senior year. He learned that some of the boys she went with in Baltimore were 鈥渢errible speeds鈥� and came to dances in states of artificial stimulation; most of them were twenty or so, and drove alluring red Stutzes. A good half seemed to have already flunked out of various schools and colleges, but some of them bore athletic names that made him look at her admiringly. As a matter of fact, Isabelle's closer acquaintance with the universities was just commencing. She had bowing acquaintance with a lot of young men who thought she was a 鈥減retty kid鈥攚orth keeping an eye on.鈥� But Isabelle strung the names into a fabrication of gayety that would have dazzled a Viennese nobleman. Such is the power of young contralto voices on sink-down sofas. He asked her if she thought he was conceited. She said there was a difference between conceit and self-confidence. She adored self-confidence in men. 鈥淚s Froggy a good friend of yours?鈥� she asked. 鈥淩ather鈥攚hy?鈥� 鈥淗e's a bum dancer.鈥� Amory laughed. 鈥淗e dances as if the girl were on his back instead of in his arms.鈥� She appreciated this. 鈥淵ou're awfully good at sizing people up.鈥� Amory denied this painfully. However, he sized up several people for her. Then they talked about hands. 鈥淵ou've got awfully nice hands,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hey look as if you played the piano. Do you?鈥� I have said they had reached a very definite stage鈥攏ay, more, a very critical stage. Amory had stayed over a day to see her, and his train left at twelve-eighteen that night. His trunk and suitcase awaited him at the station; his watch was beginning to hang heavy in his pocket. 鈥淚sabelle,鈥� he said suddenly, 鈥淚 want to tell you something.鈥� They had been talking lightly about 鈥渢hat funny look in her eyes,鈥� and Isabelle knew from the change in his manner what was coming鈥攊ndeed, she had been wondering how soon it would come. Amory reached above their heads and turned out the electric light, so that they were in the dark, except for the red glow that fell through the door from the reading-room lamps. Then he began: 鈥淚 don't know whether or not you know what you鈥攚hat I'm going to say. Lordy, Isabelle鈥攖his sounds like a line, but it isn't.鈥� 鈥淚 know,鈥� said Isabelle softly. 鈥淢aybe we'll never meet again like this鈥擨 have darned hard luck sometimes.鈥� He was leaning away from her on the other arm of the lounge, but she could see his eyes plainly in the dark. 鈥淵ou'll meet me again鈥攕illy.鈥� There was just the slightest emphasis on the last word鈥攕o that it became almost a term of endearment. He continued a bit huskily: 鈥淚've fallen for a lot of people鈥攇irls鈥攁nd I guess you have, too鈥攂oys, I mean, but, honestly, you鈥斺�� he broke off suddenly and leaned forward, chin on his hands: 鈥淥h, what's the use鈥攜ou'll go your way and I suppose I'll go mine.鈥� Silence for a moment. Isabelle was quite stirred; she wound her handkerchief into a tight ball, and by the faint light that streamed over her, dropped it deliberately on the floor. Their hands touched for an instant, but neither spoke. Silences were becoming more frequent and more delicious. Outside another stray couple had come up and were experimenting on the piano in the next room. After the usual preliminary of 鈥渃hopsticks,鈥� one of them started 鈥淏abes in the Woods鈥� and a light tenor carried the words into the den: 鈥淕ive me your hand I'll understand We're off to slumberland.鈥� Isabelle hummed it softly and trembled as she felt Amory's hand close over hers. 鈥淚sabelle,鈥� he whispered. 鈥淵ou know I'm mad about you. You do give a darn about me.鈥� 鈥淵es.鈥� 鈥淗ow much do you care鈥攄o you like any one better?鈥� 鈥淣o.鈥� He could scarcely hear her, although he bent so near that he felt her breath against his cheek. 鈥淚sabelle, I'm going back to college for six long months, and why shouldn't we鈥攊f I could only just have one thing to remember you by鈥斺�� 鈥淐lose the door....鈥� Her voice had just stirred so that he half wondered whether she had spoken at all. As he swung the door softly shut, the music seemed quivering just outside. 鈥淢oonlight is bright, Kiss me good night.鈥�