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"You'll find out when it happens," she replied, over her shoulder. "They never know themselves till the last moment. The day classes are tame—just a speech when you turn in your candy or some such mild diversion, but the night life is more sporting, and they may put you through a course of sprouts, but they're good-natured idiots on the whole. None of us are as outrageous as we seem." "I'll put on my new bonnet," she promised, and trotted off to her room, smoothing the tails of her basque with eager fingers. "Who--who--told you?" stammered the young man, as pale as death..
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Griffin was just ending the sentence that had hurried the fleeting pictures through her mind when Patricia slipped away unnoticed into the hall, where she flung on a cape and soft hat of Judith's and softly let herself out. As she moved nearer she gave a start of surprise. The lights in the night-life room were out. The transom showed black and empty above the massive folded doors. After the man had gone, Patricia, who had flushed, suddenly giggled. "Did you see him looking at us, Frad?" she asked, in an undertone. "He thought he'd caught us holding hands, like regular grown-up spoons!" "I can answer that," broke in Arkel, amazed at the self-possession of the man. "I have here a warrant to arrest you for stealing the body of Maurice Alymer.".
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