“His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. She also knew that he was the type who would not make a single physical overture until she pushed the correct buttons.
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