"You don't tell me that you are going to Dr. Phelps McCarthy's Academy?" he cried, staring at me in surprise. "My dear chap, it's no use. You can't possibly remain there."
"But I saw him, and he seemed the most courtly, inoffensive fellow. I never met a man with more gentle manners."
"He! oh, he's all right. There's no vice in him. Have you seen Theophilus St. James?"
"I have never heard the name. Who is he?"
"Your colleague. The other master."
"No, I have not seen him."
"He's the terror. If you can stand him, you have either the spirit of a perfect Christian or else you have no spirit at all. A more perfect bounder never bounded."
"But why does McCarthy stand it?"
My friend looked at me significantly through his cigarette smoke, and shrugged his shoulders.
"You will form your own conclusions about that. Mine were formed very soon, and I never found occasion to alter them."