"You're quite right, sir. Don't take it off."
"We can sympathize with young romance, sir."
"Be careful of it, sir."
"Wear it till your dying day."
"It's the colour of her hair."
But by this time the poor fellow's face was flaming, and he jerked off the tie and flung it to the floor amid thunders of derisive applause.
Then the Undergraduate Gallery turned its attention to the organist, who in all the hubbub was brilliantly going through the numbers of his program.
"Will you kindly tell us what you're playing, Mr. Lloyd?"
"We don't care for classical music ourselves."
"'Auld Lang Syne,' if you please."