The ten boys stopped talking and sat perfectly still staring at him. He felt himself getting hot and red under their scrutiny.
'I suppose the first thing I ought to do is to get your names clear. What is your name? he asked, turning to the first boy.
'Tangent, sir.
'And yours?
'Tangent, sir, said the next boy. Paul's heart sank.
'But you can't both be called Tangent.
'No, sir, I'm Tangent. He's just trying to be funny.
'I like that. Me trying to be funny! Please, sir, I'm Tangent, sir; really I am.
'If it comes to that, said Clutterbuck from the back of the room, 'there is only one Tangent here, and that is me. Anyone else can jolly well go to blazes.
Paul felt desperate.