“But then you’ve had examinations,” said Betty sympathetically. “I’m sure they must be dreadfully slow things.”
“Yes.” There followed silence.
“Well?” prompted Betty. “I’m waiting, you know.”
“I don’t think——” he began. Then his anger stirred once more and he faced her accusingly. “You don’t want to know,” he charged. “You—you’re just making fun of me! You’re laughing at me all the time! You’re—you’re cruel!”
“Phil!”
His anger died instantly. His face lighted.
“I beg your pardon, Betty, but—but—I don’t know what to think!”
“Think of what you are going to tell me,” advised Betty. “I don’t believe you have any excuse, after all; you’re simply trying to gain time to invent one.”
“I’m not, Betty! Only—somehow, it doesn’t seem a very good excuse when it comes to explaining,” faltered Phillip. “And I daresay you’ll be frightfully bored.” Betty shook her head. “You won’t? Well——”