Tom thereupon buried himself in the mass of correspondence that lay by his plate. When he came to the end, Philip had finished his repast. Tom pushed back his chair.
"Well, Philip, what brings you here? Moggat, you rascal, away with you!"
Philip waited until the door had closed upon Moggat's reluctant back.
"I've—to learn to be—a gentleman," he said.
Tom stared at him. Then he burst out laughing.
"God ha' mercy, Philip, has it come to that?"
"I do not take your meaning," said Philip crossly.
"What! It's not a petticoat?"
"Tom, I'll thank you to—to—be quiet!"
Tom choked his laughter.