Her face was white, and her fingers clutched in convulsion at her throat; but Peter's face was equally as white and strained as hers.
He stared in pain and utter disbelief, while a smile slowly crept over the features of Eileen's professor. She seemed about to faint, and sank back, with eyes tightly closed, against Hodgson's breast.
Peter tried to speak, but a moment passed before he could find words.
"Eileen—Eileen," he muttered, "you said—you told me—oh, God!"
He wheeled and dashed out of the hall, as he proposed to dash out of her life, with terrible, sinking thoughts in his brain, and his heart pounding dismally against his ribs. He recovered his coat and hat in the cloak-room.
Hardly had he vanished than Eileen, recovering slowly from her daze, sprang after. But Hodgson detained her, gripping her arm.
She seemed to realize for the first time what had been done, and to the profound astonishment of the several round-eyed couples, she wiped her hand fiercely across her mouth, the recent repository of the professor's sudden and unexpected kiss.
"You—beast!" she stammered. "You—you saw him come in! How dared you! How dared you! I thought you were a—gentleman—you—you beast!"
Her professor merely grinned, as though the tragedy were a comedy of the most amusing order.
"One stolen kiss——" he chuckled.