He pointed at Bobbie fiercely.
“What are you doing here? Why are you hanging about outside my study? When I want you I call for you. Nothing will annoy me so much as to see you when I don’t want you.”
“You told me to come,” said Bobbie mildly.
Coles, who had turned, spun round upon him instantly, his whole countenance darkening like the sky before a storm.
“You’d argue, would you? I told you to come, did I? Well, now I tell you to go, so GO!”
He made a threatening gesture towards Bobbie, but as Bobbie did not flinch he emitted a sound of utter passion and went noisily into his study, slamming the door behind him.
Once inside, he threw himself into a chair and began to brood. And, brooding, he came to a sudden decision.
Coles had certain friends, and it was his custom to entertain these friends during the early part of each term. Afterwards they, in their turn, entertained him. But he liked to be the first to issue an invitation. For one thing, this enabled him to cut a dash whilst he still had a fair amount of money; and having duly impressed the said friends with the way in which he believed in doing things, he was then able to enjoy their hospitality on a similarly lavish scale during times when he himself was rather hard up, entirely free of cost.
These entertainments were not feeds as feeds are generally understood. That is to say, expense and provender were never pooled. The inclusion of parcels from home was rather scorned if anything. It would have implied that the host was unable to provide a really sumptuous repast out of his own pocket, and had had to resort to a means of entertaining which is available to every junior. To Coles and his friends this would never have done. You will gather that Coles and his friends were snobs and you will be correct. But there was something else. They were, in addition, fools. None of these repasts was complete without one special item. There is no use hiding the fact. The item was drink. Under these circumstances it is surprising, of course, that Coles should have succeeded in getting into the First Fifteen the previous year. Coles was, however, passably clever. Very few in the school knew that he was addicted to this particular form of vice, and he took care that very few should. He posed as a connoisseur of whisky only to those friends who shared it with him. To all appearances he trained conscientiously, and he was sufficiently skilful to avoid giving any outward signs that he was not always fit. In addition, he indulged in drink only after matches, so that on Saturdays he was usually fit enough to pass muster. Indeed, whenever he had felt at all off colour he had found it easy enough to plead a cold.
The idea came to him now that he would vent his feelings in entertaining his friends to a really good evening. It should take place in his study, and he would drown his bitterness in fiery spirits flowing from a teapot. He did not like whisky, but it was supposed to be a good comforter once you had got it down, and besides, it was great to be able to take the stuff slightly stronger than the next man.