"Well, anyway, I wish you wouldn't," she said plaintively. She lifted her face and looked up at him.
"Really?" He was in earnest now.
"Yes."
"Then I won't—that is not after Saturday."
"Oh, I suppose you'll have to then," she said disconsolately. "You're entered."
"But suppose I break the Western Intercollegiate?" he suggested. "Wouldn't you like that—now, frankly, wouldn't you?"
She did not reply, so he went on.
"I'll tell you what. That race will settle it. If I'm beaten I'll never run again—never. I'll—I'll—give you my running shoes as a souvenir of my Mercurial days!"
She laughed and said: