'Yes, I think so.'
Jim took his cap and went off, while Merevale settled down to spend the evening in Tony's study, as he often did when the term's work was over, and it was no longer necessary to keep up the pretence of preparation.
Parker, the Head's butler, conducted Jim into the presence.
'Sit down, Thomson,' said the Head.
Jim took a seat, and he had just time to notice that his namesake, Mr Thompson, was also present, and that, in spite of the fact that his tie had crept up to the top of his collar, he was looking quite unnecessarily satisfied with himself, when he became aware that the Head was speaking to him.
'I hope you are not feeling any bad effects from your race, Thomson?'
Jim was half inclined to say that his effects were nil, but he felt that the quip was too subtle, and would be lost on his present audience, so he merely said that he was not. There was a rather awkward silence for a minute. Then the Head coughed, and said:
'Thomson.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I think it would be fairest to you to come to the point at once, and to tell you the reason why I wished to see you.'