rotten of Daren, one way you look at it--our way,"
added Flossie. "But you have to hand it to him for that stunt."

Helen Wrapp preserved her sombre mood, silent and brooding.

"Margie," went on Elinor, "there's a lot back of this. If Dare Lane
could do that there must be some reason for it. Maybe we all needed a
jolt. Well, we've got it. Let's stand by Daren. I will. Helen will.
Floss will. You will. And surely Dal will."

"If you ask _me_ I'll say Dare Lane ought to hand something to the
men!" burst out Floss Dickerson, with fire in her eyes.

"You said a mouthful, kiddo," responded Helen, with her narrow
contracted gaze upon Margaret. "Daren gave me the once over--and then
the icepick!"

"Wonder what he gave poor Mel--when he heard about her," murmured
Elinor, thoughtfully.

"Mel Iden ought to be roasted," retorted Helen. "She was always so
darned superior. And all the time...."

"Helen, don't you say a word against Mel Iden," burst out Margaret,
hotly. "She was my dearest friend. She was lovely. Her ruin was a
horrible shock. But it wasn't because she was bad.... Mel had some
fanatical notion about soldiers giving all--going away to be
slaughtered. She said to me, 'A woman's body is so little to give,'"

"Yes, I know Mel was cracked," replied Helen. "But she needn't have
been a damn fool. She didn't need to have had that baby!"

"Helen, your idea of sin is to be found out," said Elinor, with
satire.

Again Floss Dickerson dropped her trenchant personality into the
breach.

"Aw, come off!" she ejaculated. "Let somebody roast the men once, will
you? I'm the little Jane that _knows_, believe me. All this talk about
the girls going to hell makes me sick. We may be going--and going in
limousines--but it's the men who're stepping on the gas."

"Floss, I love to hear you elocute," drawled Helen. "Go to it! For
God's sake, roast the men."

"You always have to horn in," retorted Floss. "Let me get this off my
chest, will you?... We girls are getting talked about. There's no use
denying it. Any but a blind girl could see it. And it's because we do
what the men want. Every girl wants to go out--to be attractive--to
have fellows. But the price is getting high. They say in Middleville
that I'm rushed more than any other girl. Well, if I am I know what it
costs.... If I didn't 'pet'--if I didn't mush, if I didn't park my
corsets at dances--if I didn't drink and smoke, and wiggle like a
jelly-fish, I'd be a dead