"Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. . . ” Her hand fell back into her lap. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. She continued to fan herself. He stood away from her. See you in Science Class.
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