wanted his mind to stay cold and taut, and he was afraid to face the
temptation of her eyes and her soft white arms. And in the mood of that
hour, it pleased her that this should be so--that the ascetic in him
should pay her the tribute of fear.

Afterward, of course, she felt like lashing herself for having felt like
that and for having replied, in a spirit of pure coquetry, in a voice of
studied, cool, indifferent good humor:

"That's a good idea, Roddy. I'm glad you're not coming back. Good
night."




CHAPTER V

RODNEY SMILED


It was with a reminiscent smile that Rose sat down before her telephone
the next morning and called a number from memory. Less than a year ago,
it had been such a thrilling adventure to call the number of that
fraternity house down at the university and ask, in what she conceived
to be a businesslike way, for Mr. Haines. And then, presently, to hear
the voice of the greatest half-back the varsity had boasted of in years,
saying in answer to her "Hello, Harry," "Hello, Rose."

It was really less than a year, and yet it was so immensely long ago,
judged by anything but the calendar, that the natural way to think of