He said jokingly: "I shall come down to the town and give you another of those surprise visits one of these evenings."
The crowd were returning from watching the putting of the weight. She made to leave him, saying as she did so: "Yes, do. You like a talk, don't you?"
"Rather!" he exclaimed, almost boyishly, as she went away.
Almost boyishly! Even a moment of her made a difference in him.
III
That evening, for the first time in his life, he was "ragged." He was taking preparation in the Big Hall. As soon as the School began to enter he could see that some mischief was on foot. Nor was it long in beginning to show itself. Hardly had the last-corner taken his seat when a significant rustle of laughter at the rear of the Hall warned him that danger was near. He left his seat on the rostrum and plunged down the aisle to the place whence the laughter had come. More laughter.... He saw something scamper swiftly across the floor, amidst exclamations of feigned alarm. Someone had let loose a mouse.
He was furious with anger. Nothing angered him more than any breach of discipline, and this breach of discipline was obviously an insult to him personally. They had never "ragged" him before; they were "ragging" him now because they disliked him. He saw the faces of all around him grinning maliciously.
"Anyone who laughs has a hundred lines."
A sharp brave laugh from somewhere—insolently defiant.
"Who was it that laughed then?"