‘What happened, Dick?’
‘Oh!’ a proud ring coming into the voice, ‘Ockley came for us. He used to be alive, you know—the Ockley who was keeper of the fives in my first half. I once pointed him out to mother. I was jolly glad he was the one who came for us. As soon as I saw it was Ockley I knew we should be all right.’
‘Dick, I like that Ockley.’
‘Rather. I wish I could remember something funny to tell you though. There are lots of jokes, but I am such a one for forgetting them.’
He laughs boisterously. We may be sure that he flings back his head. You remember how Dick used to fling back his head when he laughed?—No, you didn’t know him.
‘Father, do you remember little Wantage who was at my private and came on to Ridley’s house in my third half? His mother was the one you called Emily.’
‘Emily Wantage’s boy.’
‘That’s the card. We used to call him Jemima, because he and his mother were both caught crying when lock-up struck, and she had to clear out.’
‘She was very fond of him, Dick.’
‘Oh, I expect no end. Tell her he’s killed.’