“It’s not my work,” repeated Stephen, blushing, but very determined.
“Look here, young fellow,” said Loman, when he was sure that he had really heard correctly, “don’t you play any of your little games with me, or you’ll be sorry for it.”
Stephen said nothing, and waited with a tremor for what was to follow.
Loman was hardly a bully naturally. It was always easier for him to be civil than to be angry, especially with small boys, but this cool defiance on the part of his fag was too much for any one’s civility, and Loman began to be angry.
“What do you mean by it?” he said, catching the boy by the arm.
Stephen wrenched away his arm and stood dogged and silent.
Nothing could have irritated Loman more. To be defied and resisted by a youngster like this was an experience quite new to him.
“Just come to my room,” said he, gripping his fag angrily by the shoulder. “We’ll see who’s master of us two!”
Stephen was forced to submit, and allowed himself to be dragged to the study.
“Now!” said Loman shutting the door.