eeing Katie, she waved her hand and pointed off to
her ball that Katie, too, might mark the triumph. Then they came along,
laughing and chatting. When the ball was reached they were in about the
spot where Katie had first seen Ann, thirty days before.

She knew how Ann felt. There was joy in the good stroke. In this other
game she had been playing in the last thirty days--this more difficult
and more alluring game--she had come to know anew the exhilaration of
bunker cleared, the satisfaction of the long drive and the sure putt.

And Katie had played a good game. It was not strange she should have
convinced others, for there were times when her game was so good as to
convince even herself. Though it had ever been so with Kate. The things
in the world of "Let's play like" had always been persuasive things.
Curious she was to know how often or how completely Ann was able to
forget they were playing a game.

She had come to think of Ann, not as a hard-and-fast, all-finished
product, but as something fluid, certainly plastic. It was as if anything
could be poured into Ann, making her. A dream could be woven round her,
and Ann could grow into that dream. That was a new fancy to Kate; she had
always thought of people more as made than as constantly in the making.
It opened up long paths of wondering. To all sides those paths were
opening in those days--it was that that made them such eventful days.
Down this path strayed the fancy how much people were made by the things
which surrounded them--the things expected of them. That path led to the
vista that amazing responsibility might lie with the things
surrounding--the things expected. It even made her wonder in what measure
she would have been Katie Jones, differently surrounded, differently
called upon. Her little trip down that path jostled both her approval of
herself and her disapproval of others.

It was only once or twice that the real girl had stirred in the dream.
For the most part she had remained in the shadow of Katie's fancyings.
She was as an actor on the stage, inarticulate save as regards her part.
Katie had grown so absorbed in that part that there were times of
forgetting there was a real girl behind it. Often she believed in her
friend Ann Forrest, the dear girl she had known in Florence, the poor
child who had gone through so many hard things and was so different from
the Zelda Frasers of the world. She rejoiced with Wayne and Captain
Prescott in seeing d