"All right, sir," he would answer, shifting from foot to foot, afraid to volunteer assistance.
"All right myself," Stover would answer. "See you to-morrow. Good night."
Gradually, however, to his delight, Stover grew to like the strange meetings, and permitted him to accompany him to his room to open the window, draw off the boots and disappear with the promise to thunder on his door in time for chapel. In the daytime they never met.
Stover never failed to thank him with the utmost ceremony. Often the dialogue that ensued was farcically humorous, only little Wookey, solemn as an owl, never laughed.
One night Stover, draped in difficult equilibrium on the mantelpiece, suddenly, in his new parental solicitude for the freshman, bethought himself of the curriculum.
"Wookey."
"Yes, sir."
"One thing must speak about—meant speak about long time ago."
"What, sir?" said Wookey, looking up apprehensively over his spectacles.