Part 15 (1/2)

Finally he began to mutter some commonplaces which meant nothing particularly, but into his tone as he mouthed them was the note of a forlorn and pa.s.sionate lover. Then as if by accident he traversed the two inches and his shoulder was against the soft and yet firm shoulder of Nora Black. There was something in his throat at this time which changed his voice into a mere choking noise.

She did not move. He could see her eyes glowing innocently out of the pallour which the darkness gave to her face. If he was touching her, she did not seem to know it.

”I am awfully tired,” said Coleman, thickly. ”I think I will go home and turn in.”

” You must be, poor boy,” said Nora tenderly.

”Wouldn't you like a little more of that champagne?”

” Well, I don't mind another gla.s.s.”

She left him again and his galloping thought pounded to the old refrain. ” To go to the devil-to go to the devil-to go to the devil with this girl is not a bad fate-not a bad fate- not a bad fate.” When she returned he drank his gla.s.s of champagne. Then he mumbled: ” You must be cold. Let me put your cape around you better. It won't do to catch cold here, you know.”

She made a sweet pretence of rendering herself to his care. ” Oh, thanks * * * I am not really cold * * * There that's better.”

Of course all his manipulation of the cloak had been a fervid caress, and although her acting up to this point had remained in the role of the splendid and fabulous virgin she now turned her liquid eyes to his with a look that expressed knowledge, triumph and delight. She was sure of her victory. And she said: ”Sweetheart * * * don't you think I am as nice as Marjory ?” The impulse had been airily confident.

It was as if the silken cords had been parted by the sweep of a sword. Coleman's face had instantly stiffened and he looked like a man suddenly recalled to the ways of light. It may easily have been that in a moment he would have lapsed again to his luxurious dreaming. But in his face the girl had read a fatal character to her blunder and her resentment against him took precedence of any other emotion. She wheeled abruptly from him and said with great contempt: ” Rufus, you had better go home. You're tired and sleepy, and more or less drunk.”

He knew that the grand tumble of all their little embowered incident could be neither stayed or mended. ”Yes,” he answered, sulkily, ”I think so too.” They shook hands huffily and he went away.

When he arrived among the students he found that they had appropriated everything of his which would conduce to their comfort. He was furious over it. But to his bitter speeches they replied in jibes.

”Rufus is himself again. Admire his angelic disposition. See him smile. Gentle soul.”

A sleepy voice said from a comer: ” I know what pinches him.”

” What ? ” asked several.

”He's been to see Nora and she flung him out bodily.”

” Yes?” sneered Coleman. ”At times I seem to see in you, c.o.ke, the fermentation of some primeval form of sensation, as if it were possible for you to de- velop a mind in two or three thousand years, and then at other times you appear * * * much as you are now.”

As soon as they had well measured Coleman's temper all of the students save c.o.ke kept their mouths tightly closed. c.o.ke either did not understand or his mood was too vindictive for silence. ” Well, I know you got a throw-down all right,” he muttered.

”And how would you know when I got a throw down? You pimply, milk-fed soph.o.m.ore.”

The others perked up their ears in mirthful appreciation of this language.

” Of course,” continued Coleman, ” no one would protest against your continued existence, c.o.ke, unless you insist on recalling yourself violently to people's attention in this way.

The mere fact of your living would not usually be offensive to people if you weren't eternally turning a sort of calcium light on your prehensile attributes.”

c.o.ke was suddenly angry, angry much like a peasant, and his anger first evinced itself in a mere sputtering and spluttering.

Finally he got out a rather long speech, full of grumbling noises, but he was understood by all to declare that his prehensile attributes had not led him to cart a notorious woman about the world with him. When they quickly looked at Coleman they saw that he was livid. ” You-”

But, of course, there immediately arose all sorts of protesting cries from the seven non-combatants. Coleman, as he took two strides toward c.o.ke's corner, looked fully able to break him across his knee, but for this c.o.ke did not seem to care at all. He was on his feet with a challenge in his eye. Upon each cheek burned a sudden hectic spot. The others were clamouring, ”Oh, say, this won't do. Quit it. Oh, we mustn't have a fight. He didn't mean it, Coleman.” Peter Tounley pressed c.o.ke to the wall saying: ” You d.a.m.ned young jacka.s.s, be quiet.”

They were in the midst of these. festivities when a door opened and disclosed the professor. He might. have been coming into the middle of a row in one of the corridors of the college at home only this time he carried a candle. His speech, however, was a Washurst speech : ” Gentlemen, gentlemen, what does this mean ? ” All seemed to expect Coleman to make the answer. He was suddenly very cool. ”Nothing, professor,” he said, ” only that this-only that c.o.ke has insulted me. I suppose that it was only the irresponsibility of a boy, and I beg that you will not trouble over it.”

” Mr. c.o.ke,” said the professor, indignantly, ” what have you to say to this? ” Evidently he could not clearly see c.o.ke, and he peered around his candle at where the virtuous Peter Tounley was expostulating with the young man. The figures of all the excited group moving in the candle light caused vast and uncouth shadows to have conflicts in the end of the room.

Peter Tounley's task was not light, and beyond that he had the conviction that his struggle with c.o.ke was making him also to appear as a rowdy. This conviction was proven to be true by a sudden thunder from the old professor, ” Mr. Tounley, desist ! ”

In wrath he desisted and c.o.ke flung himself forward. He paid less attention to the professor than if the latter had been a jack-rabbit. ” You say I insulted you? he shouted crazily in Coleman's face.