Distin gave him a short nod, paid no heed to the others, and went to his place to take up a book, yawning loudly as he did so. Then he opened the book slowly.
“Look!” cried Macey, with a mock aspect of serious interest.
“Eh? What at?” said Vane.
“The book,” cried Macey; and then he yawned tremendously. “Oh, dear! I’ve got it now.”
Vane stared.
“Don’t you see? You, being a scientific chap, ought to have noticed it directly. Example of the contagious nature of a yawn.”
Oddly enough, Gilmore yawned slightly just at the moment, and, putting his hand to his mouth, said to himself, “Oh, dear me!”
“There!” cried Macey, triumphantly, “that theory’s safe. Distie comes in, sits down, yawns; then the book yawns, I yawn, Gilmore yawns. You might, could, would, or should yawn, only you don’t, and—”
“Good-morning, gentlemen. I’m a bit late, I fear. Had a little walk after breakfast, and ran against Doctor Lee, who took me in to see his greenhouse. He tells me you are going to heat it by hot-water. Why, Vane, you are quite a genius.”
Macey reached out a leg to kick Vane under the table, but it was Distin’s shin which received the toe of the lad’s boot, just as Gilmore moved suddenly.