“Yes, I did,” replied the boy frankly, “about half past eight, or maybe nine o’clock.”
Patricia trembled. So it had been he. Quietly she wrapped her coat more closely about her so no one would notice that she was shaking violently.
“Where were you going?” inquired the Dean.
“Home, to work on my assignments for today,” answered Norman, letting his glance travel along the row of girls at his left. No one of them, however, met his eyes.
“Did you notice anything unusual about the dormitory?”
“Only that it was dark.”
“How did you happen to notice that?”
“The path which is always well lighted from the windows on that side was so dark that I involuntarily looked up to see what was the matter,” responded the youth glibly, gazing directly, and Patricia thought somewhat defiantly, into the Dean’s eyes.
“Were you out again that night?”
“Yes, Dean; I went over on an errand—for Mrs. Brock.”