Peter, being pressed, tried a negress. They hung over him insisting upon details.
“Get out, young Newton!” cried Probyn. “Don’t come hanging round here. He’s drawing things.”
Ames pressed further requests.
“Shan’t draw any more,” said Peter with a sudden disinclination.
“Go it, Simon Peter,” said Ames, “don’t be a mammy-good.”
“Gaw! if I could draw!” said Probyn.
But Peter had finished drawing.
§ 12
No further questions were asked Peter about his father, but on Sunday night, when home-letter time came round, any doubt about the soundness of his social position was set at rest by Mr. Mainwearing himself. Home-letters from High Cross School involved so many delicate considerations that the proprietor made it his custom to supervise them himself. He distributed sheets of paper with the school heading, and afterwards he collected them and addressed them himself in his study. “You, Stubland, must write a letter to your aunt,” he said loudly across the room, “and tell her how you are getting on.”
“Aunt Phyllis?” said Peter.