“Never mind that, Nead. This is as much my room as it is yours, and I don’t like cigarettes and won’t stand for them. We might as well understand each other now. Then there won’t be any further rowing.”
“Suppose I choose to smoke?” drawled Humphrey.
“Then you’ll have to find another room.”
“Yes, I will! Like fun! I suppose you’d go and tell faculty, eh?”
“I might, if I couldn’t stop it any other way,” returned Ira calmly. “But I don’t think it would be necessary.”
He viewed Humphrey very steadily and the latter, after an instant of defiant glaring, dropped his gaze uncertainly.
“Rough-stuff, eh?” he sneered. “Well, you’re a heap bigger than I am, and I guess you could get away with it. Anyway, I don’t care enough about smoking to fight.”
“Then I think I’d quit,” said Ira. “What’s the idea, anyway, Nead?”
“Oh, just for fun,” answered the other airily. “Haven’t you ever done it?”