“I’m ashamed of myself,” Miss Angoff said.

“So am I! I’m ashamed every time I sit at that table and listen to Harkins and Peterson talk about their law and order—as though this were the issue! I’m ashamed every time I tell that whole PTA crowd that integration is very bad, of course, but we must be good citizens and obey the law, though we may quarrel with it. Every time I hear an unthinking remark, or see one of those illit­erate orange posters, or think of Simon’s Hill—I’m ashamed.”

Somewhere, far from Paton’s consciousness, a bell rang shrilly. He folded his hands and spoke in a soft voice. “Not so ashamed, though,” he said, “as I would be if I were to weaken now, when we’re so close.”

The door opened and a blonde girl came in. “Jimmy Foster wants to see you, Mr. Paton,” she said.

The principal glanced up. “All right, Leona. Tell Jimmy to come in.” Then to Miss Angoff: “Remember, I’ll deny it.”

“You won’t have to.”

As she walked down the teeming hall, Agnes Angoff thought about Harley Paton, and about the many faces of courage.

Hers was burning red.

13

13

The torero pants were tight; they reminded Ella of her body and of her years and of her excitement. She knew that Adam Cramer was going to kiss her tonight. But she did not know whether he planned to touch her. No one ever had, at least not as Lucy had described it, and she hoped, without realizing that she hoped, that it would happen. There wasn’t anything wrong about letting someone touch you, after all. Not really wrong. A lot of girls, some of them younger than Ella, just took it for granted. And with her own eyes she’d seen Alfred Clancy put his whole hand over Dorothy Watkins’ right breast and keep it there—on the outside, of course.

She drained the soda glass noisily and looked at the clock. It was seven-ten. In five minutes, she thought, he’ll pick me up. It didn’t even occur to her that Adam Cramer would be late. He wasn’t that sort.

She took thirty cents out of her wallet, went around the counter and put the money into the cash register. Mr. Higgins jumped at the sound.

“I’d forgotten you were here,” he said. Then, “Why are you here, anyway, all by yourself?”

“I’m meeting somebody,” Ella said.

“Oh. I beg your pardon.”

She went outside and waited and presently the Chevrolet pulled up. Adam Cramer got out and opened the door for her.

“I really appreciate this,” he said.

Ella got in and waited until they were headed down the street before she said, “I told Mother I was meeting Lucy.”

“My God, is she against me too?”

“No, but she doesn’t like the idea of me going out on a school night, you know. What’s this about, anyway?”

“Well,” Adam Cramer said, “it’s mostly about you.”