This possibility had not occurred to Pip, but if he felt any disappointment he displayed none.
"Yes," he said, "it's a pity. Never mind!"
"And it's all my fault, my fault!" Linklater held his head in his hands and groaned aloud.
"Your fault? Piffle, my dear man! What on earth had you to do with my falling off a bar? You were at the other end of the dormitory. The whole thing was an accident: it happened at a rather lucky time for you, that's all. You'd better cut now."
Linklater rose to go, mightily comforted.
"I heard how you held out against Chilly, trying to keep him from coming—"
"Oh, hook it!" remarked the patient uneasily.
But Linklater lingered a moment. He wanted to say something.
"I'll—we'll look after the house till you come back, Pip," he said awkwardly.
"Right. Back Maxwell up. He's a puker, Link."