Craig. Is it happy at Margery's?
Tutor. Swell. . . . I am growing tired now.
Craig Before you go, tell me this. Will you give me a conference some time before my divisional examinations.
Tutor. We are all very, very happy here.
* * * * * *
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I never saw Craig again. But tucked away in a secret drawer of my desk is something that I would not part with for many a cigarette coupon. It is a yellow, faded clipping from the Dybbuk. Vermont. "Self-starter." Tenderly I unfold the old creases and read the" words again:
"A thunder shower passed over here about three o'clock Wednesday afternoon, lightning striking several orchards."
For Craig, my friend Craig, is safe. He has taken the veil.