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 much more I'd 've run him out of the room. You'd think we were a lot of girls in a boarding-school. What harm is there in a game of cards?"

"You're not supposed to bring . . . liquor into Residence, are you?"

"And that's another thing! We're old enough to take care of ourselves, and we've as much right to drink what we like as he has. A bottle of champagne isn't going to kill us."

"Haven't you been doing too much of that sort of thing?"

"What sort of thing?"

"Beer, champagne, 'pop' generally."

Conroy stood up. "I didn't come here to be lectured by you, either. If you don't want me here, say so. There are plenty of other rooms."

"Well." Don put down his knife. "You're old enough to know what you're doing. I've said all I intend to say about it. . . . If you sleep with me to-night, I suppose we can get the big front room to-morrow."

Conroy seated himself again sulkily, holding an ankle on his knee and frowning at the floor.

Don asked: "What will your father say?"

"He needn't know—unless you tell him."

Don passed the insult unanswered; he was thinking of Margaret. Conroy added unexpectedly: "You were quick enough to tell her."

"Yes. . . . You needn't be afraid. I'll not tell her."

"A lot I care whether you do or not."