'You'll find an excellent brand of air down in the senior study,' said Dallas, pointedly. 'Don't stay and poison yourself here on our account,' he added. 'Think of your family.'
'I shall work where I choose,' said the Mutual Friend, with dignity.
'Of course, so long as you do work. You mustn't talk. Vaughan and I have got some Livy to do.'
Plunkett snorted, and the passage of arms ended, as it usually did, in his retiring with his books to the senior study, leaving Dallas and Vaughan to discuss his character once more in case there might be any points of it left upon which they had not touched in previous conversations.
'This robbery of the pots is a rum thing,' said Vaughan, thoughtfully, when the last shreds of Plunkett's character had been put through the mincing-machine to the satisfaction of all concerned.
'Yes. It's the sort of thing one doesn't think possible till it actually happens.'
'What the dickens made them put the things in the Pav. at all? They must have known it wouldn't be safe.'
'Well, you see, they usually cart them into the Board Room, I believe, only this time the governors were going to have a meeting there. They couldn't very well meet in a room with the table all covered with silver pots.'
'Don't see why.'
'Well, I suppose they could, really, but some of the governors are fairly nuts on strict form. There's that crock who makes the two-hour vote of thanks speeches on Prize Day. You can see him rising to a point of order, and fixing the Old 'Un with a fishy eye.'