Kitty would have died rather than show fear when questioned before the whole school. But as she made her way back to her house after the inquiry her heart sank. She realized already that, unless something very unexpected happened, she would be enveloped in a cloud from which it might be impossible to escape. Suspicion rested upon her and Duane alone, and she knew that if it came to choosing between them, the unenviable choice of the girls would most certainly fall upon her. She had actually gone to the laboratory; no one could say that of Duane. One could only say she might have gone. Besides, the girls would not think lightly of doubting the word of one of the head prefects, whom they had known for years, while she, Kitty, was still little more than a stranger from a remote land. "I declare, I believe Duane knows more of this affair than anyone else does, only she's got the knack of keeping cool and never turning a hair," thought Kitty to herself. Instead of going straight to her study to do her prep she made for the gym, feeling she would like a few minutes' exercise before settling down to work. Just as she reached the quad she ran into the very girl who was occupying her thoughts. "Hallo!" she exclaimed, "going to the gym?" "Yes," replied Duane in her slow drawl. "Right-oh! we may as well go across together, if you've no objection." "Just as you like," replied Duane, though a kind of frigidity came over her face, and her grey eyes gazed coldly past, rather than at, the girl to whom she was speaking. Kitty said nothing for a minute, though her sharp eyes noticed everything. "I do believe, in a way, she's afraid," she said to herself with a curious kind of exaltation. "Afraid of what I might say to her." Then as she fell into step beside Duane she remarked quietly, "I wonder if it's dawned on you yet that we're both of us in a beastly awkward position?" "Oh, you mean about that wretched key business?" returned Duane, looking bored. "You know perfectly well I do," said Kitty, rather sharply. "So why pretend otherwise? You know it's between you and me. You didn't lend that key to anyone else, did you?" "I thought I answered that question at the inquiry." "Well, don't get your wool off. What I mean is, you didn't tell a lie to shield anyone?" "No, I certainly did not," replied Duane, still very coldly. "I am not in the habit of telling lies to shield others from the consequences of their own acts. If people wish to do such things they must first make sure they have the courage to face it out afterwards." Kitty thought to herself that Duane seemed to have nerve enough to face anything, despite, or perhaps because of, her lethargic temperament. But aloud she said, "Only, you see, I know I never touched the wretched balance. I never went near it. And if I didn't, who did?"