"You enjoy your Shakespeare work, Miss Dudley?" he asked.
"Oh, yes!" cried Lydia. "That most of anything. Don't you love to teach it?"
"Er—in some ways! I will admit that the co-educational end of it is very trying to an Eastern college man."
This was such a surprising view to Lydia that she forgot to be bashful.
"Don't you like girls, Professor Willis?" she asked.
"Not in a boys' classroom—that is—at first the situation brought cold sweat to my face. But now, I carry on the work to a great extent for you. You are the only person with a background, don't you know."
Lydia didn't know. The Harvard man's voice, however, was entirely impersonal, so she ventured to explore.
"What do you mean by background?"
"If you wouldn't skate so outrageously fast," he panted, "I could tell you with more—more aplomb."
"But," explained Lydia, "I have to skate fast. There's always so much to be done and old Lizzie isn't well."
She looked at the Shakespeare professor innocently. He looked at his watch.