"Of Sarawack or Timbuctoo?" said Worcester, with scorn. "Bet my boots that Borneo one's governor went head-hunting in his time, and the darkest African one's knows what roasted man is."
Acton laughed, for a nigger was to Worcester as a red rag to a bull. "St. Amory's for niggers!" Dick would say with intense scorn.
"Anyhow," said Acton, "I think there's no need for us to be quite so slack."
"You'll pull us up a bit?" said Dick, with genuine admiration.
"Thanks. But I meant the whole house generally."
"Not much good. We're Biffen's, that never did nor never shall, etc."
"I don't know. There's sixty of us, barring your niggers; we ought to get eleven to look at a football with a business eye out of that lot, you know."
"We ought to, but don't."
"We ought to do something in the schools too."
"We ought to, but don't, though Raven is in for the Perry Exhibition. Guess he won't pull it off, though."