“THE SONG OF THE WOOD SPRITE.”
“I hope you will pardon this intrusion, Professor. I see you are very busy,” the inspector began, glancing at the manuscript with a look of some slight amusement.
The Professor hastily covered up the sheet.
“Not at all,” he said politely; “I’m just idling away a little time. What can I do for you?”
He had seen Miss Steel about the building and most of the Faculty knew her by this time as “Inspector of Dormitories.”
“Do you remember helping a young lady who fainted on the day of the football game?”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” replied the Professor, absent-mindedly fingering a paper cutter.
“You lent her your overcoat that afternoon, didn’t you?”
“Why, yes; I believe I did.”
“Have you worn the coat since?”