‘Especially as,’ added Accrington, ‘when we shouted at them from the Quad, a coal-box, two boot-trees, and an alarm clock suddenly came through the window more or less in our direction.’
‘The only sad thing about it,’ said the Pilot, as he quietly trumped his opponent’s trick, ‘is that Accrington must have meant to drink those spirits himself, which in one so young is positively painful.’
‘Two in diamonds,’ I said, as I put down the score.
‘And one in the footbath,’ yelled Freddy through the open door, as a splash was heard, and Fatty appeared, dripping from the effects of an immersion in Accrington’s tub.
I rose from the table and wiped Fatty tenderly down with an antimacassar; I have noticed that he always repays attentions like these by a sumptuous luncheon, or the gift of a choice cigar imported from Borneo by Dalston senior.
‘Your deal, Martha,’ said the Pilot, as Fatty collapsed heavily into the best chair.
I had just started when a sound of frenzied yells from the Quad caused me to pause for a moment; the shrieks grew louder, and a string of guttural oaths in very low German floated up the staircase.
‘Sport the oak,’ shrieked Accrington, but as Freddy reached the door it flew open, and the portly form of von Graussman, our Rhodes Scholar from the Fatherland, burst in and fell flat upon the floor.
‘I did my best, you fellows,’ panted Cobson, who followed with a red and perspiring face, ‘but he’s rather fatigued, and he’s been sitting on the flower-bed under the Dean’s window for the last half-hour. We’ve put him to bed three times, but he only threw his water-jug out of window, and then came down and posed as Adam in the Quad.’