Harrington, sallow and unshorn, was not an inspiring sight. Mr. Beaver evidently thought so. His eyes were unquestionably serious.
"Harrington," he said, "it seems that you are another of our weak brethren this morning. Did you prepare your lesson?"
Again, the second's hesitation. Harrington turned a shade paler, if possible. Then, with an effort, he spoke.
"No, sir."
"I was afraid not," said Mr. Beaver making another cryptic dot. Then he smiled. Harrington writhed and the rest of the class, except Burton, laughed. "Why not?"
"I—I was ill."
Mr. Beaver was at once sympathetic, though serious. "Did you report to Dr. Stevens?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
"I knew he had already gone."