After all, nothing mattered—that is, nothing mattered much. Seven o'clock in the bowling-alley seemed a long way off. Her headache was better—nearly gone; she could endure life once more.
CHAPTER XXII THE BOWLING-ALLEY
At ten minutes to seven that evening two girls might have been seen strolling leisurely in the direction of the bowling-alley. The fog had lifted, and the clouds had rolled by. The evenings were getting long now, and there was still plenty of daylight.
The girls entered the bowling-alley and paced up and down. Their arms were entwined; they were talking eagerly. One girl was Susan Marsh, and the other her special friend Maud Thompson.
"Well," said Maud, "what do you mean to do? Star is quite certain not to give up the bill. Will you confess to her? Will you throw yourself on her mercy?"
"Never!" said Susan. "I am not that sort."
Maud's eyes narrowed. She looked frightened.
"It is a very awkward thing," she said after a pause, "and it makes me downright uncomfortable. Just at present, too, when the Easter holidays are coming; and then all the prizes which we are to compete for at the grand break-up in summer. It's horrid to be in hot water, and we are certain to be if it is known that you sent Christian to Dawson's to buy those things."