Maddox shook hands, and turned to David again.
“Do tell me your name,” he said, “for the only piece of it I can remember is ‘David.’ You came down to try for a scholarship and stayed at Adams’s.”
It seemed wonderful to David that anybody so great should remember anything.
“Blaize,” he said.
“Of course. And so you and David live here, Miss Blaize, in this ripping town. I never saw such a jolly place. I could prowl about the close and the cathedral for weeks.”
“Yes, my pater’s Archdeacon,” said David.
“I wish mine was,” said Maddox. “But I’ve got some right here. I came down two days ago to stay with my uncle, who’s Bishop. I expect you know him, don’t you? He’s got one of those gorgeous houses in the close.”
David again made a stupendous call on his courage.
“I say, won’t you come to tea?” he blurted out, “if you like these houses in the close. We live in one, you know. Margy, do ask him.”
“David and I would like it awfully if you would come,” she said.