"Have you noticed those little fluffy curls on her neck?" inquired Lucius. "With most girls they stick out straight and look as if they ought to be tucked in somewhere. But hers don't."
"Why don't you take a snap-shot at them with a Kodak in the lecture-room?" suggested Dizzy.
Lucius did buy a Kodak after this, and stayed away from the charmed lecture-room one morning with a heavy heart, in order to take photographs of the girl as she went through the court to and from the lecture. He ensconced himself in a friend's rooms on the kitchen staircase, the nearest position he could gain, for he did not want her to see him standing in the court; but after pressing the button feverishly six or eight times, and waiting impatiently for three weeks until the other people had done the rest, he was rewarded with several curious pictures of fog effects, only one of which showed a scene which could be recognised as the Great Court, with a few dark little spots some miles away, which Lucius interpreted as the girl and her companions leaving the college, but did not gain much satisfaction from the possession of them even with the help of a magnifying glass.
The girl was a Newnhamite (hideous word!). Lucius and Dizzy knew that much, though they could not discover her name. She must have known theirs, for the lecturer was in the habit of calling them over after each lecture. Unfortunately he omitted to do so in the case of the lady students.
"It's just my luck, you know," said Lucius disconsolately. "I've got a cousin of sorts at Girton. I ought to have looked her up before now—I promised the governor I would—and I'd have done it pretty quick, you bet, if she had had the sense to go to the other place."
"What is she like?" asked Dizzy.
"I don't know. I've never seen her. She is a sister of my cousin at Queens'."
"Oh, I should look her up if I were you. She may be pretty," said Dizzy.
"Have you seen my cousin at Queens'?"
Dizzy had, and acknowledged that the inferences were not encouraging.