"No one need know about it," he interjected sheepishly. "Must not know about it!"
Barbara did not have to weigh his unspoken offer. It and he disgusted her so that she could hardly find words to reply to it. She didn't know why she had expected more from an academic.
Instead, she did not use words to refuse him. She merely slapped his face, very, very hard, then left his room.
The administrator's words, "No one need know about it; must not know about it," ringing in her ears, Barbara waited on tables in the sorority cafeteria that afternoon for those few girls who had not yet gone home for the Christmas holiday.
Since Gail lived less than an hour's drive away in Winnetka, she had remained until the last.
Barbara decided not to tell her friend about either losing her scholarship or the administrator's proposition. In Gail's room after lunch, however, her friend sensed something was the matter.
"My scholarship isn't being renewed," Barbara admitted after being prodded several times.
She would not tell Gail about the administrator. He was a man of power at the university. If Gail reported his obscene offer, it might cause trouble for her.
"I won't be returning to Fairmount in January."
Without hesitation, Gail had the answer for that. "I'll get you the tuition! I'm sure my father will give it to you, or loan it to you if necessary. If not, I've enough of my own to cover it. And I will, gladly."
The friends hugged, but even over her tears, Barbara made it clear that she would not accept any financial help from Gail or her father.
"I'll never forget your generosity, but just can't accept it."
It was the last hour they spent together in what had become a sanctuary to Barbara.
Riding a streetcar home that night to her mother's apartment, Barbara reflected. So I've only been able to get in one semester of college. But even so, I can still always call myself a 'college girl.' Not that it really matters. She knew what she would be a graduate of: the School of Hard Knocks. But that was okay, too. She could handle that and not feel sorry for herself.
After the death of Barbara's short college life, the second death was even more personal. When she got home that night, she found her mother feverish and coughing. Feeling her forehead and finding it on fire, she ran out of the building and hailed a taxi.
She took her mother to the nearest hospital and saw that the emergency room was so overcrowded, sick people and those who had brought them there overflowed into the hall outside. Over her pleas for immediate attention for her mother, she reluctantly helped her into a chair she was lucky enough to find vacant in the hallway. She stood what seemed like hours, waiting to be admitted into the emergency room.