"Well played, Kitty," said Vanda appreciatively.
Duane donned her blazer and sauntered across to the winner. Kitty was hot and panting and flushed; Duane showed no signs of exertion, save that she was breathing more deeply than usual.
"Good game, Kitty, wasn't it!" she said, in her emotionless way. "You're a fine player. Can't think how you can fly about the court at the rate you do, though."
"Oh, I like plenty of exercise," returned Kitty, feeling a little shy and embarrassed at the congratulations showered upon her from all sides. She made her escape from the field as quickly as possible, while the spectators gradually drifted back to their own quarters, still discussing the match and the outstanding points of the play.
CHAPTER III
THE P. SQUAREDS
Kitty rolled over in bed and opened her eyes with a start. What was that? She was sure she had heard someone moving stealthily down the dormitory. The next instant she heard the sound of a smothered giggle and drew a breath of relief. Of course it was only those harum-scarum juniors up to some prank; and by the scuffling noise, thought Kitty, nearly the whole of the dormitory seemed astir.
Just as the sounds diminished Kitty heard a bed creak, as if someone had sat up suddenly, and a voice, which she recognized as Duane's, saying:
"Who's that? Is there anything the matter?" Kitty gave a little chuckle, then answered softly, "Couldn't say exactly, only I should guess most of the juniors of this dormitory are taking a little nocturnal airing."
"Oh, indeed! Well, I'll soon make sure of that."