\"Carry your books for you?\" He asked. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned away. It was now a quarter past twelve. Gold-handled, too. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. This obstacle, which appeared to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter, was speedily got rid of.
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