And she was right—he was in a state of nerves. He was perched on the edge of one of the lounge chairs when Lisa and Johnny came through the French windows. He came to his feet at the sight of them and stood with his back to the cold fireplace. The hat in his hands was well on its way to acquiring a shredded brim. “Forgive me,” he said, “for barging in this way without an invitation. I simply had to talk to you.” “I’m glad you’ve come,” Lisa said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too. We did part company under rather provocative circumstances.” The professor stared morosely at the hat in his hands. “That was very foolish of me,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.” And then he looked up and his eyes met Lisa’s. “You talked to Joel after I left. I must ask you, Miss Bancroft, how did he act? What did he say?” “Very little,” Lisa answered, “about you.” The wind from the open windows was getting a bit stronger. Lisa placed a paperweight over some of the material on her desk and then sat down behind it.
