“No. I want to know why.”
Jan’s look grew searching.
“If Heriot told you so much——”
“He didn’t till I pressed him.”
“Why should you have pressed him, Chips? What had you heard?”
“Only something they were saying in the Sixth Form Room; there’s nothing really got about yet.”
“You might tell me what they’re saying! I—I don’t want to be made out ever so much worse than I am.”
That was not quite the case. He wanted to know whether there was any movement, or even any strong feeling, in his favour; but it was a sudden want, and he could not bring himself to clothe it in words. It was his prototype’s hope of a reprieve, entertained with as little reason, more as a passing irresistible thought.
“They say there was nothing the matter with you yesterday afternoon.”
“No more there was. I was shamming.”