David Herrick was a sort of "pathetic soul," daring hardly to speak to a sorority girl and when he had never been to a dance.
Alice heard: "Fidelia certainly picks up with the strangest souls . . . but it seemed to me she must have some special reason for Roy Wheen . . . so I went over to the library . . . he was there and I came out when he did.
"He spoke to me and we walked . . . I mentioned Fidelia and he got fussed red. He's crazy about her, of course. I said, 'Didn't you know her before she came here?'
"He said: 'Yes. That is—'
"'What?' I said.
"Alice, he got fussed redder and redder. He hadn't exactly met her, it seemed; but she came to his home town. That's in Idaho—Mondora; it's hardly on the map. I had to let up on him as soon as he suspected I was after something. He wouldn't say a thing. Closed like a clam! She's got him; he's protecting her! That's his big thrill! Alice, it happened summer before last after she left Stanford. I ran him down on the time—"
Alice stirred with shame at herself. For the minute she had become avid, hopeful to hear something base about Fidelia, something which would destroy Fidelia Netley. But now she cried: "Myra, suppose something did happen! Isn't she trying to live it down!"
Myra was harder. "How? By sneaking Dave away—"
"She doesn't. He does it, Myra! Oh, you wouldn't
