Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. His hug became an embrace. None of the things they said and did were altogether new to Ann Veronica, but now she got them massed and alive, instead of by glimpses or in books—alive and articulate and insistent. She laughed a little bitterly. "Souls," she answered, drily. \"Well, my Advanced Trig book weighs about two tons, then there is my Poli-Sci book, which is smaller but kind of fat, I've got a speech to write for a meet next week, so I've got a Trapper Keeper just for speeches, you know. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed.
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