'I had never seen Oxford. Isn't it beautiful?'
'There's nothing beautiful here,' he said, looking round his sober study.
'No,' she admitted; 'there's nothing I care for here,' and had left another celestial kiss on his lips before he knew it. 'And now you must take me to lunch and on the river.'
He stammered, 'I have—work.'
She pouted. 'But I can't stay beyond tomorrow morning, and I want so much to see all your celebrated oarsmen practising.'
'You are not staying over the night?' he gasped.
'Yes, I am,' and she threw him a dazzling glance.
His heart went pit-a-pat. 'Where?' he murmured.
'Oh, some poky little hotel near the station. The swell hotels are full.'
He was glad to hear she was not conspicuously quartered.