“That doesn’t sound like Brookins. I suppose he was gathering experience, so that he might be able to deal understanding with erring undergrads.”
“You’re charitable. At any rate, when I met him he was playing the truant from morality. I was in the Casino.”
“What doing? Gambling?”
She nodded. “You see I was nearly as bad as Mr. Brookins. He came and stood behind my chair while I was playing. When I got up and went out into the garden, he followed. It was all dusky and dimly lit with faery-lamps. I suppose it made him feel romantic. I saw what he was doing out of the corner of my eye; so, for the fun of it, I tried to fascinate him.”
“I’ll warrant you did. It was the old game you played with me and the Bantam. You take delight in making other people uncomfortable. It’s the most adventurous thing about you, Fiesole. You’ve got the name of a lullaby and the manners of a mustard-plaster. You’ll be trying to sting me presently, when you catch me sleepy and unaware.”
“Not you, Dante.”
She spoke my name coaxingly, veiling her eyes with her long lashes.
“But you did once.”
“Did I? So you still remember?”
I was unwilling to be sentimental. “What did you do next to poor Brookins?”