Noll, restless, his brain teeming with the things that had befallen him this day, fretted with the baffling dilemma of finding Betty, and alone with his conflicting moods, paced his little room until long after the darkness came into it, when he roused, famished but unhungry, flung out of the hotel, and turned aimlessly northwards, pacing beside the sounding traffic into the darkness of the night, that hung upon the more quiet ways where law students have their dingy habitations.
He wandered towards the old quarters where he had strolled the pavements gaily, a handsome youth, with a handsome girl by his side—every flagstone was familiar to him—every dingiest street-corner held a wan smile beneath its soot.
As he turned into the quaint old street where Betty had lodged, he was startled to see her figure flitting in front of him.
He thought for a moment that he must be suffering from faintness—it came to him that he had not broken his fast since morning. But the sound of her well-known step, the light poise of her lithe figure, left no doubt; and he cautiously followed her, hanging back, afraid to startle her.
She turned of a sudden, with that forthright aimful intent that directed all her acts; ran up some steps; set a key in the lock of the door-latch; and, the door yawning open, she stepped into the blackness and passed out of the night.
The thud of the slammed door came muffled on the night; and Noll, striding out, crossed the street and arrived opposite the house where he had spent many a happy tryst. It was the last place in the world whither he would have expected Betty to go into hiding—and he realized, with a whimsical smile, Betty’s keen sense of humour and her shrewd capacity, in boldly deciding to hide herself away in her old haunts.
The house was wholly in darkness. Not a soul was astir.
Noll brooded upon it....
At last came a light into a window.
Betty had mounted to her room.