The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (e book reader pc .TXT) 📕

“Oh, gee, Cynthia, I’m glad to see you. I thought the darn train was never going to get here. How are you? Gee, you’re looking great, wonderful. Where’s your suitcase?” He fairly stuttered in his excitement, his words toppling over each other.

“I’m full of pep. You look wonderful. There’s my suitcase, the big black one. Give the porter two bits or something. I haven’t any change.” Hugh tipped the porter, picked up the suitcase with one hand, and took Cynthia by the arm with the other, carefully piloting her through the noisy, surging crowd of boys and girls, all of them talking at top speed and in high, excited voices.

Once Hugh and Cynthia were off the platform they could talk without shouting.

“We’ve got to walk up the hill,” Hugh explained miserably. “I couldn’t get a car for love nor money. I’m awfully sorry.”

Cynthia did a dance-step and petted his arm happily. “What do I care? I’m so⁠—so damn glad to see you, Hugh. You look nicer’n ever⁠—just as clean and washed and sweet. Ooooh, look at him blush! Stop it or I’ll have to kiss you right here. Stop it, I say.”

But Hugh went right on blushing. “Go ahead,” he said bravely. “I wish you would.”

Cynthia laughed. “Like fun you do. You’d die of embarrassment. But your mouth is an awful temptation. You have the sweetest mouth, Hugh. It’s so damn kissable.”

She continued to banter him until they reached the fraternity house. “Where do I live?” she demanded. “In your room, I hope.”

“Yep. I’m staying down in Keller Hall with Norry Parker. His roommate’s sick in the hospital; so he’s got room for me. Norry’s going to see you later.”

“Right-o. What do we do when I get six pounds of dirt washed off and some powder on my nose?”

“Well, we’re having a tea-dance here at the house at four-thirty; but we’ve got an hour till then, and I thought we’d take a walk. I want to show you the college.”

After Cynthia had repaired the damages of travel and had been introduced to Hugh’s fraternity brothers and their girls, she and Hugh departed for a tour of the campus. The lawns were so green that the grass seemed to be bursting with color; the elms waved tiny new leaves in a faint breeze; the walls of the buildings were speckled with green patches of ivy. Cynthia was properly awed by the chapel and enthusiastic over the other buildings. She assured Hugh that Sanford men looked awfully smooth in their knickers and white flannels; in fact, she said the whole college seemed jake to her.

They wandered past the lake and into the woods as if by common consent. Once they were out of sight of passersby, Hugh paused and turned to Cynthia. Without a word she stepped into his arms and lifted her face to his, Hugh’s heart seemed to stop; he was so hungry for that kiss, he had waited so long for it.

When he finally took his lips from hers, Cynthia whispered softly, “You’re such a good egg, Hugh honey, such a damn good egg.”

Hugh could say nothing; he just held her close, his mind swimming dizzily, his whole being atingle. For a long time he held her, kissing her, now tenderly, now almost brutally, lost in a thrill of passion.

Finally she whispered faintly: “No more, Hugh. Not now, dear.”

Hugh released her reluctantly. “I love you so damned hard, Cynthia,” he said huskily. “I⁠—I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“I know,” she replied. “But we’ve got to go back. Wait a minute, though. I must look like the devil.” She straightened her hat, powdered her nose, and then tucked her arm in his.

After the tea-dance and dinner, Hugh left her to dress for the Dramatic Society musical comedy that was to be performed that evening. He returned to Norry Parker’s room and prepared to put on his tuxedo.

“You look as if somebody had left you a million dollars,” Norry said to Hugh. “I don’t think I ever saw anybody look so happy. You⁠—you shine.”

Hugh laughed. “I am happy, Norry, happy as hell. I’m so happy I ache. Oh, God, Cynthia’s wonderful. I’m crazy about her, Norry⁠—plumb crazy.”

Norry had known Cynthia for years, and despite his ingenuousness, he had noticed some of her characteristics.

“I never expected you to fall in love with Cynthia, Hugh,” he said in his gentle way. “I’m awfully surprised.”

Hugh was humming a strain from “Say it with Music” while he undressed. He pulled off his trousers and then turned to Norry, who was sitting on the bed. “What did you say? You said something, didn’t you?”

Norry smiled. For some quite inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt older than Hugh.

“Yes, I said something. I said that I never expected you to fall in love with Cynthia.”

Hugh paused in taking off his socks. “Why not?” he demanded. “She’s wonderful.”

“You’re so different.”

“How different? We understand each other perfectly. Of course, we only saw each other for a week when I was down at your place, but we understood each other from the first. I was crazy about her as soon as I saw her.”

Norry was troubled. “I don’t think I can explain exactly,” he said slowly. “Cynthia runs with a fast crowd, and she smokes and drinks⁠—and you’re⁠—well, you’re idealistic.”

Hugh pulled off his underclothes and laughed as he stuck his feet into slippers and drew on a bathrobe. “Of course, she does. All the girls do now. She’s just as idealistic as I am.”

He wrapped the bathrobe around him and departed for the showers, singing gaily:

“Say it with music,
Beautiful music;
Somehow they’d rather be kissed
To the strains of Chopin or Liszt.
A melody mellow played on a cello
Helps Mister Cupid along⁠—
So say it with a beautiful song.”

Shortly he returned, still singing the same song, his voice full and happy. He continued to sing as he dressed, paying no attention to Norry, completely lost in his own Elysian thoughts.

To Hugh and Cynthia the musical