"Just so," said Mr. Mackintosh, drawing the exeat book—resembling the butt of a check-book—towards him. "And you are going down to-morrow?"
"Yes," said Frank.
"Going home?" murmured the Dean, inscribing Frank's name in his neat little handwriting.
"No," said Frank.
"Not?... To London, perhaps?"
"Well, not exactly," said Frank; "at least, not just yet."
Mr. Mackintosh blotted the book carefully, and extracted the exeat. He pushed it gently towards Frank.
"About that auction!" he said, smiling indulgently; "I did want to have a word with you about that. It was very unusual; and I wondered.... But I am happy to think that there was no disturbance.... But can you tell me exactly why you chose that form of ... of ..."
"I wanted to make as much money as ever I could," said Frank.
"Indeed!... Yes.... And ... and you were successful?"