“Who was with you?”
“I can’t tell you, sir.”
“If you don’t tell me——”
“He’s left now, sir. It wouldn’t be fair.”
They looked each other in the face and in that moment Carus Evans realized that, in spite of their positions, Roland was the stronger.
“Oh, well, never mind that; we can leave it till later on. And I suppose you made an appointment?”
“No, sir.”
“What?”
“You asked me if I made an appointment, sir. I answered I didn’t.”
Roland was not going to give him the least assistance. Indeed, in the joy of being able to play once again the old game of baiting masters, that had delighted him so much when he had been in the middle school and that he had to abandon so reluctantly when he attained the dignity of the Fifths and Sixths, he had almost forgotten that he was in a singularly difficult situation. He would make “old Carus” ask him a question for every answer that he gave. And he saw that for the moment Carus had lost his length.