Patricia read the notice slowly. Although she knew an investigation would surely be made, nevertheless her heart sank to her very shoes when she saw her fears realized quite so soon. Turning away abruptly, she pushed out of the crowd and started for the door.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Anne, who followed and caught up with her on the street.
“Nothing,” replied Patricia quickly; “or—that investigation.”
“But why get all ‘het up’ over that? Simply tell what you know.”
“But that’s just it; I don’t know.”
“Know what?” questioned Anne, linking her arm through that of her friend, and pressing close to her side. “Tell me all about it; you’ll feel better.”
“I’m not sure that I should,” began Patricia doubtfully.
“Oh, shucks! What’s a friend for? I’ll guess then. You know more about the fire than you told Dolly?” hazarded Anne, watching Patricia intently. “You don’t need to admit it; I can tell just by looking at you. We’ll walk over to the park so no one will interrupt us, and then you can unburden your mind. I’ll bet you didn’t sleep a wink last night. You look like nobody’s business.”
Up and down the deserted paths of the little park they paced briskly, for the wind was cold, while Patricia told her story.
“If I were you,” said Anne, when Patricia had finished, “I wouldn’t advance any information; just answer the Dean’s questions. If she doesn’t ask you whether you had any suspicions who the man was, you’ll be all right. In any case, don’t worry about it.”