'We should probably last out for a week, and then there would be a
sharp shriek, a hollow groan, and all that would be left of the Mutual
Friend would be a slight discolouration on the study carpet.'

'Coupled with an aroma of fresh gore.'

'Perhaps that's why he goes off in the afternoons,' suggested the Babe.
'Doesn't want to run any risks.'

'Shouldn't wonder.'

'He's such a rotten head of the House, too,' said Vaughan. 'Ward may
gas about my being headstrong and thoughtless, but I'm dashed if I
would make a bally exhibition of myself like the Mutual.'

'What's he do?' enquired the Babe.

'It's not so much what he does. It's what he doesn't do that sickens
me,' said Dallas. 'I may be a bit of a crock in some ways--for further
details apply to Ward--but I can stop a couple of fags ragging if I
try.'

'Can't Plunkett?'

'Not for nuts. He's simply helpless when there's anything going on that
he ought to stop. Why, the other day there was a row in the fags' room
that you could almost have heard at your place, Babe. We were up here
working. The Mutual was jawing as usual on the subject of cramming tips
for the Aeschylus exam. Said it wasn't scholarship, or some rot. What
business is it of his how a chap works, I should like to know. Just as