"Don't mention it—Jen. Here, put your shoes on."
When he had closed the big wooden door behind them, Don padlocked it again. He preferred to leave things as they'd found them, even though their visit to the observation room was no longer a secret.
He was relieved when they had scrambled up the steps under the grandstand. There had been no sense of anyone or anything following them or spying on them during their long walk through the tunnel.
They were silent with their separate thoughts as they crossed the frosty ground and Jen held Don's arm, more for companionship than support. At the campus the girl excused herself, saying she still felt shaky and wanted to rest in her room. Don went back to the dining room.
The meeting was over but Alis Garet was there, having a cup of tea and reading a book.
"Well, sir," she said, giving him an intent look, "how was the rendezvous?"
"Fair to middling." He was relieved to see that she wasn't angry. "Did anybody say anything while I was gone?"
"Not a coherent word. You don't deserve it but I made notes for you. Running off with that redhead when you have a perfectly adequate blonde. Did you kiss her?"
"Of course not. It was strictly business. Let me see the notes, you angel."
"Notes, then." She handed over a wad of paper.