“And I saw some rattling book-shops as I came up the High,” Michael went on. “What did you have for lunch? I had bread and cheese—commons we call it at St. Mary’s. I say, I think I’m glad I don’t have to wear a scholar’s gown.”
“I’m an exhibitioner,” said Alan.
“Well, it’s the same thing. I like a commoner’s gown best. Where did you get that tea-caddy? I don’t believe I’ve got one. Pretty good view from your window. Mine looks out on the High.”
“Look here,” asked Alan very solemnly, “where shall I hang this picture my mater gave me?”
He displayed in a green frame The Soul’s Awakening.
“Do you like it?” Michael asked gloomily.
“I prefer these grouse by Thorburn that the governor gave me, but I like them both in a way,” Alan admitted.
“I don’t think it much matters where you hang it,” Michael said. Then, thinking Alan looked rather hurt, he added hastily: “You see it’s such a very square room that practically it might go anywhere.”
“Will you have a meringue?” Alan asked, proffering a crowded plate.
“A meringue?” Michael repeated.