A roar of laughter greeted the incident.
“Good for you, Pell,” cried Tom Cheever. “Trying to infuse a little life into the party. That’s right, my boy, that’s right.”
The fellow came over toward Rex, walking a little unsteadily, and with such a leer in his eye that Rex shrank back against the wall.
At that moment Harrington came up and put his arm around Rex’s neck.
“I always said that Reggie Pell was a gentleman,” he mumbled. “Now you can see it for yourselves.”
“And his clothes fit him,” added Dan Tilford, as a special mark of approval.
“Oh, they imagine they’re having no end of sport,” whispered Atkins. “Look at Harrington. He’s half seas over, too.”
He was so far over, indeed, that he was very ill for a time. It was a fearful scene.
“Here, Pell,” Atkins called to him from the bed where he had gone to look after Cheever. “See what you can do for your friend.”
And Rex went over to Harrington and tried to pilot him to a seat. Then he held the other’s head and shut his eyes, while he wondered if there was ever such a donkey on the face of the earth as he, Reginald Pell, to do all that he had done for this.