“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. Such an obvious ruse, but the boys and girls would defend their pride to the bitter end, the facade of study groups during rutting season. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. I didn't understand then, but I do now.
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