“And then,” she continued, “if he ever asks me whether I told, it will be a nice, comfortable feeling to say I haven’t.”
At last, having put the flowers back in the boxes and restored some order to the room, Judy sat down and folded her hands.
“And now, go on with the story.”
“My dear child, so much has happened since then and I’m so weary, I don’t think I can make it the frightful tale I had intended.”
“Oh, it was all a joke?” asked Judy, whose enthusiasm had about spent itself in other outlets.
“Oh, partly a joke. I went down to the cloisters to leave a Christmas note for Professor Green at his office and saw a ghostly looking figure there.”
“Is that all? Well, anybody might look like a phantom in that gloomy place. I’ve no doubt the ghostly figure took you for another.”
“I’ve no doubt it did,” answered Molly, laughing, and with that they kissed and went to bed.
Long after midnight Molly rose and slipped on her dressing-gown. Creeping out of her room, she flitted along the corridor, turned the corner and hurried up the other side of the Quadrangle. At the very end of this hall was a narrow passage with a window which commanded a view of the courtyard and the windows of the cloister studies.
Softly raising the blind, she looked out. In one of the studies a dim light was burning. She counted windows. It was Professor Green’s office, she was certain. While she looked the light went out.