blood raced, and he staggered so crazily that Cynthia had to hold him by
the arm.

"Sure--sure; I'll--I'll ta-take you some-somewhere. I--I, too,
Cyntheea."

They walked unevenly out of the gymnasium, down the steps, and through
the crowd of smokers standing outside. Hardly aware of what he was
doing, Hugh led Cynthia to Keller Hall, which was not more than fifty
yards distant.

He took a flask out of his pocket. "Jush one more drink," he said
thickly and emptied the bottle. Then, holding Cynthia desperately by the
arm, he opened the door of Keller Hall and stumbled with her up the
stairs to Norry Parker's room. Fortunately the hallways were deserted,
and no one saw them. The door was unlocked, and Hugh, after searching
blindly for the switch, finally clicked on the lights and mechanically
closed the door behind him.

He was very dizzy. He wanted another drink--and he wanted Cynthia. He
put his arms around her and pulled her drunkenly to him. The door of one
of the bedrooms opened, and Norry Parker stood watching them. He had
spent the evening at the home of a musical professor and had returned to
his room only a few minutes before. His face went white when he saw the
embracing couple.

"Hugh!" he said sharply.

Hugh and Cynthia, still clinging to each other, looked at him. Slowly
Cynthia took her arms from around Hugh's neck and forced herself from
his embrace. Norry disappeared into his room and came out a minute later
with his coat on; he had just begun to undress when he had heard a noise
in the study.

"I'll see you home, Cynthia," he said quietly. He took her arm and led
her out of the room--and locked the door behind him. Hugh stared at them
blankly, swaying slightly, completely befuddled. Cynthia went with Norry
willingly enough, leaning heavily on his arm and occasionally sniffing.

When he returned to his room, Hugh was sitting on the floor staring at a
photograph of Norry's mother. He had been staring at it for ten minutes,
holding it first at arm's length and then drawing it closer and closer
to him. No matter where he held it, he could not see what it was--and he
was determined to see it.

Norry walked up to him and reached for the photograph.

"Give me that," he said curtly. "Take your hands on my mother's
picture."

"It's not," Hugh exclaimed angrily; "it's not. It's my musher, my own
mu-musher--my, my own dear musher. Oh, oh!"

He slumped down in a heap and began to sob bitterly, mutterin