"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."
"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I—I—don't think I can do that, Paul. There's so much bad blood between us."
"All the more reason you should shake hands. It's wonderful what a shake of the hands does for bad blood. It's the finest leech in the world—takes all the bad blood out."
"Oh, you're a better fellow than I am, and can do that sort of thing. I can't!"
"Nonsense! It's like a plunge into cold water—quite nice when the plunge is once made. Come along! I'll go with you."
He tucked his arm in Stanley's, and together they went in search of Newall. They found him with Parfitt and another companion. Stanley walked up to him.
"I hear that it's through you, Newall, I've got out of that den I was in last night. You've done me a good turn, and, if—if—you don't mind, I'd like to shake hands with you."
He held out his hand as he spoke, but Newall took no notice of it. He looked straight at Stanley.
"I really didn't know that I'd done you a good turn. What was the good turn?"
"Speaking up for me this morning to Mr. Weevil, and getting me out of that wretched dormitory."