In the Fifth there was a crowd of questioners, eager to ascertain how their champions had fared; and great was their delight to learn that neither was utterly cast down at his own efforts.
“You fellows are regular bricks if you get it!” cried Ricketts.
“It’ll be the best thing that has happened for the Fifth for a long time.”
“Oh, I say,” said Simon, suddenly, addressing Oliver in a peculiarly knowing tone, “wasn’t it funny, that about the Doctor losing the paper? Just the very time I met you coming out of his study, you know, on Saturday evening. But of course I won’t say anything. Only wasn’t it funny?”
What had come over Oliver, that he suddenly turned crimson, and without a single word struck the speaker angrily with his open hand on the forehead?
Was he mad? or could it possibly be that—
Before the assembled Fifth could recover from their astonishment or conjecture as to the motive for this sudden exhibition of feeling, he turned abruptly to the door and quitted the room.