“General course.”
“Like it?”
“Oh, please don’t ask me!” she implored, playfully putting up her slender hands in mock impatience. “The college game never quite phizzed on me, I’m afraid. I’m tired of it. May as well tell the truth, as lie about it, eh?”
“Surely. But what is it you dislike about education?”
“Education’s all right. It’s the university. Some day I’m going to write a book on how to run one’s university—just like a hand-guide on how to run one’s automobile. I’ll send you a copy, if I don’t forget.”
“Please don’t. I imagine it would be hot stuff.”
“Thanks. I take that as a compliment, whether it is or not.” She laughed as she turned toward the other guests. “There’s Nutbrown Hennigar over yonder talking with Lorna Freeman. He’d murder me if he heard me talk about college this way. You know him of course. Funny chap. Likeable in many ways. And he’s certainly in the swim.”
“Swim—how?”
“Why! His father owns the university—Senator Hennigar, yonder, talking with Madame de Freville. He looks like cupid at seventy, minus the wings.”
“He’s the Chancellor, isn’t he?” Mauney asked. “I’m just a green-horn in Merlton. I’m afraid of my shadow at an affair like this.”