IN AN UPPER CORRIDOR, TWO HOURS LATER.

_Culch._ (_coming upon Podbury_). So you've got rid of your Americans
at last, eh?

_Podb._ _I_ was in no hurry, I can tell you. She's a ripping little
girl--tremendous fun. What do you think she asked me about _you_?

_Culch._ (_stiff, but flattered_). I wasn't aware she had honoured me
by her notice. What _was_ it?

_Podb._ Said you had a sort of schoolmaster look, and wanted to know
if you were my tutor. My tutor! [_He roars._

_Culch._ I hope you--ah--undeceived her?

_Podb._ Rather! Told her it was t'other way round, and I was looking
after _you_. Said you were suffering from melancholia, but were not
absolutely dangerous.

_Culch._ If that's your idea of a joke, all I can say is--

[_He chokes with rage._

_Podb._ (_innocently_). Why, my dear chap, I thought you wanted 'em
kept out of your way!

[_CULCHARD slams his bedroom door with temper, leaving
PODBURY outside, still chuckling._