"Why is it such a joke?" she asked.
"I am sorry," Jack replied; "I laugh sometimes quite unexpectedly, in my bath and places like that. I think my nerves must be wrong."
"Cigarettes," Mrs. Faulkner declared. "I think I shall write to the papers about the University man of the day; I don't understand him in the least," and I unfortunately caught Fred's eye and smiled. Her statement seemed to account for so much unnecessary correspondence.
"Do," Jack answered, "and Foster, Godfrey and I will answer it."
"There wouldn't be much to write, which any one who hasn't been at Cambridge or here would believe," Fred said.
"Why not?" Mrs. Faulkner asked.
"Because they wouldn't understand that a great many men amuse themselves in odd ways and yet are not complete idiots. If you saw us dancing round a bonfire you might think we were all mad, but we aren't a bit."
"I shouldn't choose a bonfire to dance round," Mrs. Faulkner said.
"That's just it," Fred replied; "but it's very good sport when you happen to like it."
The college messenger came into the room with a note for me which was marked "urgent," and I asked if I might read it. Jack Ward was the only man who ever wanted me in a hurry, and so confident was I in the infallibility of my chemist that I was not thinking of Owen. When I had finished reading the note I found that the conversation had taken a more lively turn.