"Ask another," said John.
"I asked him another, and what do you think he said, in that peculiar voice of his which always dries me up? 'Harry,' said he, 'when you're a little older and a good deal wiser, you'll be able to answer that question yourself.'"
John's face brightened. A glimmering of the truth shone out of the darkness. He tried to advance nearer to it, gropingly.
"I dare say——"
"Well, go on!"
"Your governor may feel that we want a fellow like you."
John was blushing because he remembered what the Head of the House had said about the Verneys. Desmond glanced at him keenly. He detested flattery laid on too thick. But this was a genuine tribute. For the first time he smiled.
"Thank you, Verney," he said, more genially. "What you say is utter rot; but it was decent of you to say it, and I'm glad that you and I are going to be in the same house."
For his life John could not help adding, "And Scaife, you forget Scaife?" Jealousy pierced him as Scaife's name slipped out.
"Yes, there's the Demon. I always liked him."