then disappeared.

Vandover was so excited that he could scarcely speak. This was a new
experience. At first it attracted him, but the hopeless vulgarity of the
girl at his side, her tawdry clothes, her sordid, petty talk, her slang,
her miserable profanity, soon began to revolt him. He felt that he could
not keep his self-respect while such a girl hung upon his arm.

"Say," said the girl at length, "didn't I see you in town the other
afternoon on Washington Street?"

"Maybe you did," answered Vandover, trying to be polite. "I'm down there
pretty often."

"Well, I guess yes," she answered. "You Harvard sports make a regular
promenade out o' Washington Street Saturday afternoons. I suppose I've
seen you down there pretty often, but didn't notice. Do you stand or
walk?"

Vandover's gorge rose with disgust. He stopped abruptly and pulled away
from the girl. Not only did she disgust him, but he felt sorry for her;
he felt ashamed and pitiful for a woman who had fallen so low. Still he
tried to be polite to her; he did not know how to be rude with any kind
of woman.

"You'll have to excuse me," he said, taking off his hat. "I don't
believe I can take a walk with you to-night. I--you see--I've got a good
deal of work to do; I think I'll have to leave you." Then he bowed to
her with his hat in his hand, hurrying away before she could answer him
a word.