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           "Butyou’reonlytwenty!Giveupcollege?"

           "Why,Amory,youweresayingaminuteago—"

           "Yes,"Amoryinterrupted,"butIwasjustwishing.Iwouldn’tthinkofleavingcollege.It’sjustthatIfeelsosadthesewonderfulnights.Isortoffeelthey’renevercomingagain,andI’mnotreallygettingallIcouldoutofthem.Iwishmygirllivedhere.Butmarry—notachance.Especiallyasfathersaysthemoneyisn’tforthcomingasitusedtobe."

           "Whatawastethesenightsare!"agreedAlec.

           ButAmorysighedandmadeuseofthenights.Hehadasnap-shotofIsabelle,enshrinedinanoldwatch,andateightalmosteverynighthewouldturnoffallthelightsexceptthedesklampand,sittingbytheopenwindowswiththepicturebeforehim,writeherrapturousletters.

           ...Ohit’ssohardtowriteyouwhatIreallyfeelwhenI

           thinkaboutyousomuch;you’vegottentomeantomeadreamthat

           Ican’tputonpaperanymore.Yourlastlettercameanditwas

           wonderful!Ireaditoveraboutsixtimes,especiallythelast

           part,butIdowish,sometimes,you’dbemorefrankandtellme

           whatyoureallydothinkofme,yetyourlastletterwastoogood

           tobetrue,andIcanhardlywaituntilJune!Besureandbeable

           tocometotheprom.It’llbefine,Ithink,andIwanttobring

           youjustattheendofawonderfulyear.Ioftenthinkoverwhat

           yousaidonthatnightandwonderhowmuchyoumeant.