"I didn't feel inclined for any, thank you, sir."
III
On the day before the opening of the Melton term I went as usual to talk to O'Rane while he was dressing for breakfast. Burgess was allotting him rooms in the bachelor quarters, and there O'Rane's interest in the subject ceased. There might be furniture, carpets and bedding, and in that case he would—in his own phrase—"be striking it rich"; or again there might be bare boards, and in that event his travelling rug would be useful. Someone would lend him a cap and gown, there were shops in Melton, and, above all, he was an old campaigner.
My first idea had been to ask Lady Dainton to see him settled. Then I discovered a wish to go myself and see how my young cousin Laurence was progressing. Finally I produced an old letter from Burgess, reproaching me for never going near the school.
"You do fuss so!" Raney exclaimed, walking barefoot round the room until he found a sunny piece of carpet. "I've got to start on my own sometime. And I've got a dog. Where did Jumbo come from, George?"
"The clouds," I said. "Why shouldn't I be allowed to see my own cousin?"
"Send him a fiver. He'll appreciate it much more. George, I know you want to be helpful, but none of the masters knows I'm coming, nobody knows I've been wounded. They—they can just dam' well find out, especially the boys. You haven't given me away to your cousin?"
"I've said nothing, but if you're taking the Under Sixth you'll drop across him. Raney, what in the name of fortune are you going to Melton at all for?"
He gave a low whistle, and the great St. Bernard moved slowly forward and touched his hand.
"What does a kiddie do when he's hurt?" he demanded, dropping cross-legged on to the floor. "I wanted some place I knew ... out of the turmoil ... some place where I could rest and think it all out. We've got to get a New Way of Life out of this war, George."