“Not he,” said Bingley again. “He’s only bunging us up!”
Bingley might have been an infant Mephistopheles; but he was really only an incredulous, irritated, and rather excited schoolboy.
“You’ll see directly,” muttered Jan, slipping his braces over his night-shirt.
“You’ll be caught to a certainty, and bunked if you’re caught!”
That was Chips, in desperation now.
“And a good job too! I’ve had about enough of this place.”
That was the Jan of their first term together.
“And it’s raining like the very dickens!”
This was the child in Crabtree’s corner, an insensible little sinner, who seemed to take the imminent enormity as an absolute matter of course.
“So much the better,” said Jan. “I’ll take a brolly and run all the less risk of being seen, and you see if I don’t bring you all something from the fair.”