"My feelings on questions of honor cannot possibly concern you,
Mr. Darrin."
"On the contrary, your conduct does vitally concern me, Jetson. If you do not make your apology the class will—well, you know what will happen."
"Yes, I know," Jetson assented, his brow darkening.
"And possibly you know what it means to me. By my own statement—and I cannot, in honor retract it, I shall be compelled to share Coventry with you."
"No, you won't sir!" retorted Jetson, rising, his face ablaze with sulky anger. "You may go to Coventry, Mr. Darrin, and welcome, but you shall not share mine with me. You shall not share anything whatever with me—not even the air of this room if I can prevail upon you to take yourself out of a room where you are not wanted. Mr. Darrin, I indulge myself in the honor of wishing you—good evening!"
Jetson crossed the room, threw open the door and bowed low. Flushing, breathing quickly, Dave Darrin stepped out into the corridor and the door closed smartly behind him.
CHAPTER XXI
MIDSHIPMAN JETSON HAS THE FLOOR
It was Friday afternoon, and the last sections had been dismissed in front of Bancroft Hall. The balance of the afternoon belonged to the midshipmen, though most of them found it necessary to give the time to study.
Jetson was not one of the latter. Always well up in his studies, he had no occasion to worry about daily markings or semi-annual examinations.