Tim brightened up at the mention of his apparatus.
“Oh, no,” he said. “That’s all right. In fact I’ve been able to improve it greatly. You remember the trouble I had with the refraction from the second prism. The adjustment of the angles—— The way the light fell——”
I could not, especially before breakfast, argue about prisms.
“If your machinery’s all right,” I said, “what’s the matter with you?”
“It’s this party of Michael’s,” he said. “I forgot all about it till yesterday afternoon.”
“Well, you remembered it then. If you’d forgotten it till this afternoon it would have been a much more serious matter.”
“But,” said Tim, “Michael told me to get some new clothes. He said he’d pay for them, which was very kind of him. But when I got up to London the shops were shut. I hurried as much as I could, but there were one or two things I had to do before I started. And now I’m afraid Michael will be angry. He said most particularly that I must be well dressed because there are ladies coming.”
“Stand up,” I said, “and let me have a look at you.”
Poor Tim stood up, looking as if he expected me to box his ears. There was no disguising the fact that his costume fell some way short of the standard maintained by Cowes yachtsmen.
Tim surveyed himself with a rueful air. He was certainly aware of the condition of his clothes.