Dick's wand of office still lay among the scattered exercise-books. He pulled it out with a clumsy eagerness, tossing papers and books on the floor in his haste. He turned and went back to Dick, thrusting the cane towards him.
"There, Dicky!" he said, and stood breathing heavily and trembling.
Dick reached out and took the cane. The lines of his face were oddly softened. He stood for a moment looking at the boy, then very sharply he moved, bent, and snapped the thing across his knee.
"Oh, dash it, Robin!" he said. "You're getting too much for me."
He tossed the fragments from him, and went to pick up the books that
Robin had scattered on the floor.
Robin came and grovelled by his side, helping him. "You aren't angry, are you, Dicky?" he murmured anxiously.
"I ought to be," Dick said, as he sat down and began to straighten out the muddle in front of him.
Robin knelt up by his side. "Please don't be, Dicky!" he said very earnestly. "I won't ever do it again. I swear I won't."
Dick smiled somewhat wryly. "No. You'll probably think of some other devilry even worse." He put his arm round the humped shoulders with the words. "You'll forget—you always do—that it's I who have to pay."
Robin pressed against him, still dog-like in his contrition. "Will it cost much?" he asked.