"Yes, and you are blaming me for cutting down there when you and Cap Smith were floating around——"
"You will please leave Mr. Smith out of the conversation;" she turned toward the Hall. "I have to go in, the shades are down already."
Pellams' courage came up with a flash. By blind instinct, he reached out and caught her hand. She did not struggle, though the moment he released his pressure she drew her hand away, and quickened her pace. He followed close, and she turned upon him.
"This is what I might have expected when I cheapened myself with you! Will you let me go in?"
"Not until I have said what I came to say; Katharine, can't you—can't you guess it? Oh, I know—Kathie, you must have seen it—you know why I cut the dance—you know"—and again words failed him and he reached for her hand.
But she put him off this time. "I am sorry to spoil such a beautiful piece of acting; but our arrangement is going to end, and this is a worn-out joke."
They had come by now to the corner of Roble, where it is indiscreet to talk over private affairs, and neither said anything until they reached and mounted the steps into the shadow of the porch. Then she said:
"After all, since it is over, I won't be unkind. Good-bye. We've had a pleasant semester, haven't we?" and this time she gave him her hand.
A girl raised one of the hallway curtains just then. The sudden flash of light came upon Katharine where she stood with her hand in Pellams'. She had meant that look, that softening of the eyes, that little quiver of the mouth, for darkness and concealment, and he caught it all before she could blot it out with a smile.