By some curious chain of associations the words flashed into her mind—
"Denn, was man schwarz auf weiss besitzt,
Kann man getrost nach Hause tragen."
She laughed a little breathlessly, and drew her hand across her damp forehead.
"I am a fool and a coward," she said; "I will ask Dr Alice Bateson to give me a tonic. What do mere words matter, after all, between people like him and me?"
She walked up to a calendar that hung on the wall, and carefully counted the days till the second week in August. Then she sighed regretfully.
"Poor little Lucy," she said, "what an unsympathetic brute she must have thought me!"
CHAPTER XLIX.
THE INTERMEDIATE.
The classic precincts of Burlington House were once more invaded by a motley crowd of nervous, excited young men, who hung about the steps and entrance-hall, poring over their note-books, exchanging "tips," or coolly discussing the points of the women.
"None of them are so good-looking as the little girl with the red hair, who was up last year," Mona overheard one of them say, and she made a mental note to inform Lucy of her conquest.