"Gated for three weeks," I answered; "I suppose I ought to consider myself lucky, he might have sent me down."
"It knocks all your fun on the head," he said, "being in by nine o'clock every night is average rot."
"It won't matter to me, I am going to settle down and read for a first in Mods," and I turned into the common room and picked up The Sportsman. There were no other men in the room, and Ward stood in front of the fire and kept looking at me as if he wanted to say something and could not manage to begin. I read the names of the 'Varsity XV. chosen to play that afternoon against Richmond, and saw that Foster was still among them.
"Fred Foster's going to get his blue," I said.
"Who the deuce wants to get a blue?" Ward replied.
"Well, it's better than getting into rows, anyway," I retorted.
"You seem to have taken this thing very quietly," he said, "don't you see that your being dropped on is a most wretched swindle. Lambert and Webb are only gated for three weeks."
"It doesn't make a tuppenny-ha'penny bit of difference to me what has happened to them. If they had been gated for two years it wouldn't give me any satisfaction."
"But they had been mixing all kinds of drink."
"And the Subby thinks I had," I said.