d puffy, his
eyes dark and heavy. He was paying no attention to the "Huns," but was
trying, obviously, to catch Olva's eye. As the reading progressed Olva
became more and more uneasy. It showed the things that must be happening
to his nerves. He had now that sensation that had often come to him
lately that some one was waiting for him outside the door. He imagined
that the man next to him, a spotty, thin and restless freshman, would
suddenly turn to him and say quite casually--"By the way, you killed
Carfax, didn't you?" Above all he imagined himself suddenly rising in
his place and saying---"Yes, gentlemen, this is all very well, very
interesting I'm sure, but I killed Carfax."

His tortured brain was being driven, compelled to these utterances.
Behind him still he felt that pursuing cloud; one day it would catch him
and, out of the heart of it, there would leap . . .

And all this because Bunning looked at him. It was becoming now a
habit--so general that it was instinctive--that, almost unconsciously,
he should, at a point like this, pull at his nerves. "They are watching
you; they are watching you. Don't let them see you like this; pull
yourself together. . . ."

He did. Little Erdington's voice ceased. Mr. Gregg was heard saying:
"It has always occurred to me that the Huns . . . " and then, after many
speeches: "How does this point of view strike you, Erdington?"

It didn't strike Erdington very strongly, and there was no other person
present who seemed to be struck in any very especial direction. The
discussion, therefore, quickly flagged. Olva escaped Bunning's pleading
eyes, found his gown amongst a heap in the corner, and avoiding Mr.
Gregg's pressing invitation to stay, plunged down the stairs. Behind
him, then, making his heart leap into his mouth, was a slow, thick
voice.

"I say, Dune, what do you say to a little drink in my room after
all that muck?" Above him, in the dark shadow of the stair, loomed
Lawrence's thick body.

"I shall be delighted," Olva said.

Lawrence came lumbering down. He always spoke as though words were a
difficulty to him. He left out any word that was not of vital necessity.

"Muck that-awful muck. What do they want gettin' a piffler like that kid
in the glasses to read his ideas? Ain't got any--not one--no more 'an I
have."

They reached the Court--it swam softly in the moonlight--stars burnt,
here and there, in a trembling sky.

Lawrence put his great arm through Olva