“You have something almost every evening, Walter.”
“Oh, well, I'll turn over a new leaf next term.”
“Why not begin now?”
“If you knew how stupid I feel you wouldn't ask.”
Walter stretched himself out on a comfortable lounge, and took up a new novel which he had partially read, while Gates spread the big Greek lexicon on the study-table, and opening his Aristophanes, began slowly and laboriously to translate it into English.
Fifteen minutes passed when a knock was heard at the door.
“Come in!” called out Walter.
He looked up eagerly, hoping the visitor might prove to be one of his jovial comrades of the night before. But he did not look so well pleased when, as the door opened, he caught sight of the pudgy figure and shrewd face of Elijah Daniels, the proprietor of the Euclid Hotel.
“Good morning, Mr. Daniels.” he said, rather apprehensively. “So you have found me out.”
“No, I have found you in,” returned the landlord, with a smile. “I hope I don't intrude upon, your studies, young gentlemen.”