"No-o. We'll let that go for the present; but you've got to get out of both that er—institution—"
"The Y. W. C. A.?" I queried, surprised.
"Yes, your precious Y. W. C. A."
He was talking in a low and rather guarded voice, as if anxious that no one passing should hear us.
"I want you to get bright, pretty rooms. You'll feel better and work better in attractive surroundings."
"I did intend to move, anyway," I said. "Lolly and I were planning to look for rooms to-morrow."
He said quickly:
"I wouldn't go with her. Get a place of your own."
"Well, but, you see, together we can get a better room for less money," I explained.