Now my blush outclassed anything Doe had yet produced, and I looked
in dumb confusion towards my friend. Radley refrained from forcing
the question, but pursued with brutal humour:

"Well, there's nothing like suffering together to cement a
friendship. Doe, put out your knuckles."

Radley was ever a man of surprises. This was the first time he had
invited the use of our knuckles for his punitive practices. Doe
proffered four of those on the back of his narrow, cream-coloured
right hand. He did it readily enough, but trembled a little, and the
blush that had disappeared returned at a rush to his neck. Radley
took his ruler, and struck the knuckles with a very sharp rap. Doe's
lips snapped together and remained together,--and that was all.

"And Ray," invited Radley.

I offered the back of my right hand, and, copying my friend, kept my
lips well closed. My eyes had shut themselves nervously, when I
heard a clatter, and realised that Radley had dropped his ruler.
Leaving my right hand extended for punishment, I stooped down,
picked up the ruler with my left, and gave it back to Radley.
Perhaps the blood that now coloured my face was partly due to this
stooping. Radley smiled. It was his habit to become suddenly gentle
after being hard. One second, his hard mouth would frame hard
things; another second, and his grey eyes would redress the balance.

"Ray, you disarm me," he said. "Go to your seats, both of you."

Back we walked abreast to our places, Doe palpably annoyed that he