“Thank you,” said Connie meekly.
“But what I can’t forgive is that you never said a word—”
“To you? That you might undo it all? Nora, you really are an absurd person!” Connie sprang up, and came to kneel by the fire, so that she might attack her cousin at close quarters. “We’re told it’s ‘more blessed to give than to receive.’ Not when you’re on the premises, Nora! I really don’t think you need make me feel such an outcast! I say—how many nights have you been awake lately?”
Nora’s lip quivered a little.
“That doesn’t matter,” she said shortly.
“Yes, but it does matter! You promised to be my friend—and—you have been treating me abominably!” said Connie, with flashing eyes.
Nora feebly defended herself, but was soon reduced to accept a pair of arms thrown round her, and a soft shoulder on which to rest an aching head.
“I’m no good,” she said desparingly. “I give up—everything.”
“That’s all right!” Connie’s tone was extremely cheerful. “Which means, I hope, that you’ll give up that absurd copying in the Bodleian. You get about twopence halfpenny for it, and it’ll cost you your first-class. How are you going to get a First I should like to know, with your head full of bills, and no sleep at nights?”
Nora flushed fiercely.