“I must know my crime. Give me a chance to, at least, reach par again, even if I can’t hope to attain the 90 above.”
“I thought an Englishman had some grit. I thought he did not allow any one to walk over him. I thought he stood by his guns when he knew he was in the right. I thought he was a manly man, and a fighter against injustice!”
“Dear me! Judging by your conversation of a few minutes ago, one would imagine that you attributed exactly the opposite qualities to him.”
“I say I thought all this—yesterday. I don’t think so to-day.”
“Oh, I see! And all on account of me?”
“All on account of you.”
“Once more, what have I done?”
“What have you done? You have allowed that detestably selfish specimen of your race, Hodden, to evict you from your room.”
The young man stopped abruptly in his walk, and looked at the girl with astonishment. She, her hands still coquettishly thrust in her jacket-pockets, returned his gaze with unruffled serenity.
“What do you know about it?” he demanded at last.