that experienced man. But it tickled him, the sheer
fantastic opulence and extravagance of the thing. It tickled him so much
that whenever you disagreed with or offended Ransome his jest was to
refer you, magnificently, to "my legal adviser."

Yes, for fantastic opulence and extravagance, Ransome had never seen
anything to beat the Poly. There was no end to it, no end to the
privileges you enjoyed. He positively ran amuck among his
privileges--those, that is to say, offered him by the Poly. Swimming
Bath and the Poly. Gym. As he said, he "fair abused 'em." But he
considered that the Poly. "got home again" on his exceptionally moderate
use of the Circulating Library, and his total abstention from the Bible
Classes. He was not yet aware of any soul in him apart from that
abounding and sufficing physical energy expressed in Fitness, nor was he
violently conscious of any moral sense apart from Decency.

And Ranny despised the votaries of intellectual light; he more than
suspected them of Weediness, if not of Flabbiness. Yet (as he waited for
Booty in the vestibule), through much darkness and confusion, and always
at an immeasurable distance from him, he discerned, glory beyond glory,
the things that the Poly., in its great mercy and pity, had reserved for
those "queer johnnies." It made him giddy merely to look at the posters
of its lectures and its classes. It gave him the headache to think of
the things the fellows--fellows of a deplorable physique--and girls,
too, did there. For his part, he looked forward to the day when, by a
further subscription of ten-and-six, he would enroll himself as a member
of the Athletic Club.

It was as if the Poly. put out feeler after feeler to draw him to
itself. Only to one thing he would not be drawn. When Booty advised him
to join the Poly. Ramblers he stood firm. For some shy or unfathomable
reason of his own he refused to become a Poly. Rambler. When it came to
the Poly. Ramblers he was adamant. It was one of those vital points at
which he resisted this process of absorption in the Poly. Booty
denounced his attitude as eminently anti-social--uppish, he called it.

CHAPTER II

All that winter Ransome's nights and days were regulated in a perfect
order--making statements of account for nine hours on five days of the
week and four on Saturdays. Three evenings for the Poly. Gym. One for
the Swimming Bath. One for sprinting. One (Saturday) for rest or
relaxation after the vio