When Silvester took the bag he began to shake it.
"We're getting warm." He turned to Shepherd. "I echo what Teddy's said. If I draw the Honour of the Club I'll pass it on to you."
Shepherd shook his head.
"That will not do. I must draw the lot myself."
Silvester held out the bag to him. "Would you like to have another try?"
"I must draw it, in due order, in my proper turn."
"It strikes me that you're not quite so anxious as you make out. I don't mind owning that my anxiety is all the other way. I should like to have a little longer run before I earn my diploma."
He drew a blank. Next to him sat Archie. Silvester passed him the bag, with a laugh--a queer laugh, which had in it a hysteric note.
"Try your luck, Beaupré--three shies a penny!"
Archie looked him in the face.