“Shut up! sit down, can’t you?” said my neighbour. “What are you up to?”
“My gloves—I’ve—I’ve left them upstairs.”
“Your what?”
“Gloves. I thought it was a mistake about new boys having to wear them, and didn’t bring them.”
The boy looked grave.
“Oh, you’ll catch it! You can’t go now. There’s Sharpe coming in. Haven’t you got any at all?”
“Only my ordinary gloves.”
“What colour?”
“Yellow.”
“Stick them on then.”