'I should think, by the look of them, they were exceedingly cheap cigars, added Mr Prendergast sadly. 'They were a pale yellow colour.
'That makes it worse, said the Doctor. 'To think of any boy under my charge smoking pale yellow cigars in a boiler‑room! It is not a gentlemanly fault.
The masters went upstairs.
'That's your little mob in there, said Grimes; 'you let them out at eleven.
'But what am I to teach them? said Paul in sudden panic.
'Oh, I shouldn't try to teach them anything, not just yet, anyway. Just keep them quiet.
'Now that's a thing I've never learned to do, sighed Mr Prendergast.
Paul watched him amble into his classroom at the end of the passage, where a burst of applause greeted his arrival. Dumb with terror he went into his own classroom.
Ten boys sat before him, their hands folded, their eyes bright with expectation.
'Good morning, sir, said the one nearest him.