When school was over, one of the boys was told to show Quentin his bed and his locker. The matron had already unpacked his box and his pile of books was waiting for him to carry it over.
‘Golly, what a lot of books,’ said Smithson minor. ‘What’s this? Atlantis? Is it a jolly story?’
‘It isn’t a story,’ said Quentin. And just then the classical master came by. ‘What’s that about Atlantis?’ he said.
‘It’s a book the new chap’s got,’ said Smithson.
The classical master glanced at the book.
‘And how much do you understand of this?’ he asked, fluttering the leaves.
‘Nearly all, I think,’ said Quentin.
‘You should say “sir” when you speak to a master,’ said the classical one; and to himself he added, ‘little prig.’ Then he said to Quentin: ‘I am afraid you will find yourself rather out of your element among ordinary boys.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Quentin calmly, adding as an afterthought ‘sir.’
[p65]
‘I’m glad you’re so confident,’ said the classical master and went.