She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. "It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. . ’ ‘Nothing would make me do so, except to tell him how you have cheated me.
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