She hung upon his reply eagerly, a little frightened, though she realized, in seeking to analyze her foreboding that she could not tell herself why she should. "There's a great deal, Janet," he replied calmly. She perceived an unfamiliar note in his voice, a note that seemed to her to sound a sort of resignation. "But _what_---- Can't you tell me? Has anything happened?" For a moment he did not answer, but then he said: "Yes, dear; several things have happened--several things----" "What?" she asked, almost in a whisper, and he felt her hand's pressure upon his arm again. He continued, ruminatively, quite as though she had not spoken: "Several things, that make other things clearer to me now--much clearer." She had never heard him speak like this before. Perhaps it was a matter intimately personal with him, too intimately personal even for her to share his knowledge, his consideration of it. She almost regretted having asked him. Why had she not prattled on about the game, the splendid victory, his own skill? But when next he spoke she understood she had done no wrong. "I must tell you about those things, Janet; I must tell you now--to-night--I have meant to before." Her hand upon his arm tightened its grasp. "John, what _is_ it? _What_ has happened?" Now she made no effort to conceal the fright that sounded in her voice. He patted her hand, white on his black sleeve, and laughed lightly--forcedly, she thought. "There, don't be afraid," he said, "I haven't committed any crime." She laughed then herself, and said, "You _did_ frighten me, though." They had come to the library. As they passed, the deep throated bell in the tower rang out twice upon the stillness--tang--tung. Fifteen minutes past one, Janet calculated. They took the diagonal walk to the crossing of South and East University Avenues. Her room was in the second house from the corner, on the former street. He seemed of a sudden to perceive where they were, for, looking about him, he said: "Janet, it is something I must tell you for your own sake. And when I'm through, you can say to me what you think; it won't hurt." A step and they were at her home. "Can't you sit here on the porch a few minutes?" he asked; "I shan't keep you long." With sudden anger she replied:-- "John, if you don't speak out at once what you have to say, I shall go in immediately. You've said again and again that there is something you must tell me; why don't you? Couldn't you see; can't you see now that I haven't begged you to tell because it seems to pain you." "It does," he exclaimed, "you can't know how it pains me." He looked down at her where she sat on the step and into her uplifted face. "What is it?" she asked calmly, now. He sat beside her. "I hardly know where to begin," he commenced and hesitated. He seemed to be arranging the words in his mind, for, after a moment he resumed.