"Has some one been beating you ?" she asked, and searched with hard eyes--he had been no friend to her--for signs of ill-treatment.
He shook his head.

"Worse," he sobbed.

"Far worse! Oh, what will become of me?
What will become of me?
Lord, have mercy upon me! Lord, have mercy upon me!" Her lip curled.

Perhaps she was comparing him with another youth who had spoken to her that morning in a different strain.
"I don't think it matters much," she said scornfully, "what becomes of you." "Matters ?" he exclaimed.
"If you are such a coward as this! Tell me what it is.

What has happened?
If it is not that some one has beaten you, I don't know what it is--unless you have been doing something wrong, and they have put you out of the University?
Is it that ?" "No!" he cried fretfully.