Bob tightened his grip on her arm, started to protest, and then changed his mind.
"Yes, of course, this street; I think it's a lovely street—in fact it's a great favorite of mine," he said instead.
Then Polly was sorry. After a while she said, softly:
"What did you really mean, Bobby?"
"Why, the street."
"Oh, very well, if you don't want to tell me."
"Ha, ha! but I do; I think it's great having you here for the game, and mother and Lois. Wasn't I clever to get Frank to amuse Lo to-night? We're going to the theater, you know, something musical. I wish he could stay longer, but, of course, he can't; he'll have to return with the defeated team."
"Will they surely be defeated?" Polly asked, seriously. "Bob, I think I'll just die if Harvard doesn't win."
"Don't worry, we will," he assured her with perfect confidence. Then followed another pause. They had reached the river, and Polly stopped.
"Bob!"