's. "Rippin' game that o' yours
yesterday. Rippin'." He seemed to lick his lips over it as a gourmet
over a delicate dish.

Lawrence pursued his slow thoughts.

"I say, you know, you--re one of these clever ones--thinkin' an' writin'
an' all that--an' _yet_ you play footer like an archangel--a blarsted
archangel. Lucky devil!" He sighed heavily. "Every time I put on my
footer boots," he pursued, "I say to myself, 'What you'd be givin',
Jerry Lawrence, if you could just go and write a book! What you'd give!
But it ain't likely--my spellin's somethin' shockin'."

Here there was interruption. Several men came rattling; laughing and
shouting, down the staircase behind Lawrence and Olva.

"Oh, damn!" said Lawrence, slowly turning round upon them. Cardillac was
there, also Bobby Galleon, Rupert Craven, and one or two more.

Cardillac shouted. "Hul_lo_, Lawrence, old man. Is it true, as they say,
that you've been sitting at the feet of our dearly beloved Gregg? How
splendid for you!"

"I've been at our Historical Society hearin' about the Huns, and
therefore there's compellin' necessity for a drink," Lawrence said,
moving in the direction of his room.

"Oh! rot, don't go in yet. We're thinking of going round and paying
Bunning a visit in another ten minutes. He's going to have a whole lot
of men in for a prayer-meeting. Thompson's just brought word."

Thompson, a wretched creature in the Second Year, who had, during his
first term, been of the pious persuasion and had since turned traitor,
offered an eager assurance.

The news obviously tempted Lawrence. He moved his body slowly round.

"Well," he said slowly, then he turned to Olva. "You'll come?" he said.

"No, thanks," said Olva shortly. "Bunning's been ragged about enough.
There's nothing the matter with the man."

Cardillac's voice was amused. "Well, Dune, I daresay we can get on
without you," he said.

Lawrence said slowly, "Well, I don't know. P'raps it's mean on the man.
I want a drink. I don't think I'm havin' any to-night, Cards."

Cardillac was sharper. "Oh, nonsense, Lawrence, come along. It doesn't
do the man any harm."

"It frightens the fellow out of his wits," said Dune sharply. "You
wouldn't like it yourself if you had a dozen fellows tumbling down upon
your rooms and chucking your things out of the window."

Rupert Craven said: "Well, I'm off anyhow. Work for me." He vanished
into the shadow.

Lawrence nodded. "Good-bye, Cards, old man. G