“Simpkins.”
“Simpkins!” repeated Fazz, with a dubious drawl. “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t like Simpkins, it sounds so minuscular. What are you taking?”
“I won’t take anything, sir, thank you,” replied Simpkins.
“I mean, what schools are you taking?”
“Oh, no school at all.”
Fazz was mystified: “What college are you?”
“I’m not at a college,” confessed the other. “I came to see Mr. Evans-Antrobus with a note. I’m waiting for an answer.”
“Where do you come from?”
“From Bagshot and Buffle’s.” After a silence he added: “Bespoke boots.”
“Hump, you are very young to make bespoke boots, aren’t you, Simpkins, surely? Are you an Agnostic? Have a cigar? You must, you’ve been very good, and I am so interested in your career; but tell me now what it exactly is that you are sitting in my room for?”