'They appear to have caught somebody, he said. 'I hope they don't do him any serious harm.
'Dear me, can it be Lord Reading? I think I ought to intervene.
'No, Sniggs, said Mr Postlethwaite, laying a hand on his impetuous colleague's arm. 'No, no, no. It would be unwise. We have the prestige of the senior common-room to consider. In their present state they might not prove amenable to discipline. We must at all costs avoid an outrage.
At length the crowd parted, and Mr Sniggs gave a sigh of relief.
'But it's quite all right. It isn't Reading. It's Pennyfeather ‑ someone of no importance.
'Well, that saves a great deal of trouble. I am glad, Sniggs; I am, really. What a lot of clothes the young man appears to have lost!
* * *
Next morning there was a lovely College meeting.
'Two hundred and thirty pounds, murmured the Domestic Bursar ecstatically, not counting the damages! That means five evenings, with what we have already collected. Five evenings of Founder's port!
'The case of Pennyfeather, the Master was saying, 'seems to be quite a different matter altogether. He ran the whole length of the quadrangle, you say, without his trousers. It is unseemly. It is more: it is indecent. In fact, I am almost prepared to say that it is flagrantly indecent. It is not the conduct we expect of a scholar.