“Oh,” said he, with his usual smile, “only fancy. But I’m glad it isn’t the case.”
“Of course it isn’t,” said I, warmly.
“I haven’t seen you talking to him so often lately; that’s why,” said Hawkesbury; “and it always seems a pity when good friends fall out.”
I smiled and said, “How can I talk to him, except on the sly, in this place? Never fear, Jack Smith and I know one another too well to fall out.”
“Ah, he is a mysterious fellow, and he lets so few people into his secrets.”
“Yes,” said I, colouring a little. “He doesn’t even let me into them.”
Hawkesbury looked surprised. “Of course you know where he came from first of all, and all that?”
“No, I don’t,” I said.
“What, not know about— But I’d better not talk about it. It’s not honourable to talk about another boy’s affairs.”
“Hawkesbury,” said Mr Hashford at this moment, “don’t talk.”