"Well, I didn't hate you. I'm sorry I said that," she said gently. Chad
looked very serious.

"That's all right," he said. "I seed--I saw you on Sunday, too."

"Did you know me?"

"I reckon I did. And that wasn't the fust time." Margaret's eyes were opening
with surprise.

"I been goin' to church ever' Sunday fer nothin' else but just to see you."
Again his tone gave her vague alarm, but she asked:

"Why didn't you speak to me?"

They were nearing the turnstile across the campus now, and Chad did not
answer.

"Why didn't you speak to me?"

Chad stopped suddenly, and Margaret looked quickly at him, and saw that his
face was scarlet. The little girl started and her own face flamed. There was
one thing she had forgotten, and even now she could not recall what it
was--only that it was something terrible she must not know--old Mammy's words
when Dan was carried in senseless after the tournament. Frightened and
helpless, she shrank toward the turnstile, but Chad did not wait. With his
cap in his hand, he turned abruptly, without a sound, and strode away.