"Not come again? Why?"
"I'd be afraid," returns he simply. Whereon Miss Wynter, after a second's pause, gives way and laughs "consumedly," as they would have said long, long years before her pretty features saw the light.
"Ah! yes," murmurs she. "How she did frighten you. She brought you to your knees—you actually"—this with keen reproach—"took her part against me."
"I took her part to help you," says the professor, feeling absurdly miserable.
"Yes," sighing, "I daresay. But though I know I should have suffered for it afterwards, it would have done me a world of good to hear somebody tell her his real opinion of her for once. I should like," calmly, "to see her writhe; she makes me writhe very often."
"This is a bad school for you," says the professor hurriedly.
"Yes? Then why don't you take me away from it?"
"If I could——but—— Well, I shall see," says he vaguely.
"You will have to be very quick about it," says she. Her tone is quite ordinary; it never suggests itself to the professor that there is meaning beneath it.
"You have some friends surely?" says he.