the way. As I was saying, I wouldn't really recommend Pacific Point to you. The standards are improving every year, but there's still a great deal of dead wood around. You can see some of it from here.'
She cast a sardonic glance toward the entrance, where five or six of her fellow professors were conducting a post-mortem of their conference with the Dean.
'That was Dean Bradshaw you were talking to, wasn't it?'
'Yes. Is he the one you want to see?'
'Among others.'
'Don't be put off by his rather forbidding exterior. He's a fine scholar--the only Harvard doctor on the faculty--and he can advise you better than I ever could. But tell me honestly, are you really serious about going back to college? Aren't you kidding me a little?'
'Maybe a little.'
'You could kid me more effectively over a drink. And I could use a drink, preferably bourbon.'
'It's a handsome offer.' And a sudden one, I thought. 'Give me a rain check, will you? Right now I have to wait for Lefty Godot.'
She looked more disappointed than she had any right to be. We parted on fairly good, mutually suspicious terms.
The fatal door I was watching opened at last. Dolly backed out thanking the two Deans effusively, and practically curtsying. But I saw when she turned around and headed for the entrance that her face was white and set.
I went after her, feeling a little foolish. The situation reminded me of a girl I used to follow home from Junior High. I never did work up enough nerve to ask her for the privilege of carrying her books. But I began to identify Dolly with that unattainable girl whose name I couldn't even remember now.
She hurried along the mall that bisected the campus, and started up the steps of the library building. I caught up with her.
'Mrs. Kincaid?'
She stopped as though I had shot her. I took her arm instinctively. She flung away my hand, and opened her mouth as if to call out for help. No sound came out. The other students around us, passing on the wide mall or chatting on the steps, paid no attention to her silent scream.
'I'd like very much to talk to you, Mrs. Kincaid.'
She pushed her hair back, so forcefully that one of her eyes slanted up and gave her a Eurasian look. 'Who are you?'
'A friend of your husband's. You've given Alex a bad three weeks.'
'I suppose I have,' she said, as if she had only just thought of it.
'You must have had a bad three weeks yourself, if you're fond of him at all. Are you?'
'Am I what?' She seemed to be slightly dazed.
'Fond of Alex.'
'I don't know. I haven't had time to think about it. I don't wish to discuss it, with you or anyone. Are you really a friend of Alex's?'
'I think I can claim to be. He doesn't understand what you're doing to him. He's a pretty sad young man.'
'No doubt he caught it from me. Spreading ruin is my specialty.'
'It doesn't have to be. Why don't you call it off, whatever you're doing, and give it another try with Alex? He's waiting for you here in town right now.'
'He can wait till doomsday, I'm not going back to him.'
Her young voice was surprisingly firm, almost harsh. There was something about her eyes I didn't like. They were wide and dry and fixed, eyes which had forgotten how to cry.
'Did Alex hurt you in some way?'
'He wouldn't hurt a fly. You know that, if you're really a friend of his. He's a nice harmless boy, and _I_ don't want to hurt _him_.' She added with conscious drama: 'Tell him to congratulate himself on his narrow escape.'
'Is that the only message you have for your husband?'
'He isn't my husband, not really. Tell him to get an annulment. Tell him I'm not ready to settle down. Tell him I've decided to finish my education.'
She made it sound like a solitary trip to the moon, one-way.
I went back to the Administration Building. The imitation flagstone pavement of the mall was flat and smooth, but I had the feeling that I was walking knee-deep in gopher holes. Dean Sutherland's door was closed and, when I knocked, her 'Come in' was delayed and rather muffled.
Dean Bradshaw was still with her, looking more than ever like a college student on whom light frost had fallen during the night.
She was flushed, and her eyes were bright emerald green. 'This is Mr. Archer, Brad, the detective I told you about.'
He gave my hand a fiercely competitive grip. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Actually,' he said with an attempt at a smile, 'it's rather a mixed pleasure under the circumstances. I very much regret the necessity of your coming here to our campus.'
'The kind of work I do has to be done,' I said a little defensively. 'Mrs. Kincaid ran out on her husband, and some explanation is due him. Did she give any to you?'
Dean Sutherland put on her grim face. 'She's not returning to him. She found out something on their wedding night so dreadful--'
Bradshaw raised his hand. 'Wait a minute, Laura. The facts she divulged to you are in the nature of professional confidences. We certainly don't want this chap running back to her husband with them. The poor girl is frightened enough as it is.'
'Frightened of her husband? I find that hard to believe,' I said.
'She didn't pour out her heart to you,' Laura Sutherland cried warmly. 'Why do you suppose the poor child used a fake name? She was mortally afraid that he would track her down.'
'You're being melodramatic, you know.' Bradshaw's tone was indulgent. 'The boy can't be as bad as all that.'
'You didn't hear her, Brad. She told me things, as woman to woman, that I haven't even told you, and I don't intend to.'
I said: 'Perhaps she was lying.'
'She most assuredly was not! I know the truth when I hear it. And my advice to you is to go back to that husband of hers, wherever he is, and tell him that you haven't been able to find her. She'll be safer and happier if you do.'
'She seems to be safe enough. She certainly isn't happy. I talked to her outside for a minute.'
Bradshaw tilted his head in my direction. 'What did she say?'
'Nothing sensational. She made no accusations against Kincaid. In fact she blamed herself for the breakup. She says she wants to go on with her education.'
'Good.'
'Are you going to let her stay here?'
Bradshaw nodded. 'We've decided to overlook her little deception. We believe in giving young people a certain amount of leeway, so long as it doesn't impinge on the rights of others. She can stay, at least for the present, and continue to use her pseudonym if she likes.' He added with dry academic humor: ''A rose by any other name,' you know.'
'She's going to have her transcripts sent to us right away,' Dean Sutherland said. 'Apparently she's had two years of junior college and a semester at the university.'
'What's she planning to study here?'
'Dolly is majoring in psychology. According to Professor Haggerty, she has a flair for it.'
'How would Professor Haggerty know that?'
'She's Dolly's academic counselor. Apparently Dolly is deeply interested in criminal and abnormal psychology.'
