238 < 30 > IN BED John drove her home after school nearly every day. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. "I was not aware it was in danger," rejoined Darrell. Besides, this is an affair which no one but myself can settle. . At least until we graduate. “No thanks. It was bleeding again.
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