"Not bad," said Trevor. "Beastly waste of money."

"Waste of money!" Milton was surprised and pained at the criticism.
"Why, you must spend your money on _something."_

"Rot, I call it," said Trevor. "If you want to collect something, why
don't you collect something worth having?"

Just then Renford came back with the supplies.

"Thanks," said Milton, "put 'em down. Does the billy boil, young
Renford?"

Renford asked for explanatory notes.

"You're a bit of an ass at times, aren't you?" said Milton, kindly.
"What I meant was, is the tea ready? If it is, you can scoot. If it
isn't, buck up with it."

A sound of bubbling and a rush of steam from the spout of the kettle
proclaimed that the billy did boil. Renford extinguished the Etna, and
left the room, while Milton, murmuring vague formulae about "one
spoonful for each person and one for the pot", got out of his chair
with a groan--for the Town match had been an energetic one--and began
to prepare tea.

"What I really came round about--" began Trevor.

"Half a second. I can't find the milk."