Then he again carried his bath to the head of the steps, and his friends were busy for the next half hour. At the end of that time the trees were heavy with strange fruit.
Peter was then invited to join in a choral dance; but he would not leave his bath.
He felt a sudden need for violent rhythm, and began heavily to beat the bath of Dundoon.
Windows were flung up, and protesting shouts were heard from sleepy men in garments hastily caught up. The Junior Prior, who had as long as possible refrained, saw he must intervene. He flung on a few necessary clothes and issued from his turret.
Peter lay directly in his path. He paused irresolutely at the foot of the steps.
"Mr. Paragon."
The Junior Prior asserted his authority with misgiving.
"Sir?"
"Go to your rooms."