"I'll come for you at a quarter to nine." "I will not go, I tell you." Jefferson roared.

"Yes, you will.

You couldn't keep from it if you tried!" And he took himself off, laughing violently, again promising to call for Crailey on his way to the tryst, and leaving him still warmly protesting that it would be a great folly for either of them to go.
Crailey looked after the lad's long, thin figure with an expression as near anger as he ever wore.

"He'll go," he said to himself.
"And--ah, well--I'll have to risk it! I'll go with him, but only to try and bring him away early--that is, as early as it's safe to be sure that they are asleep downstairs.

And I won't play.