'Doesn't it strike you that for a kid like you you've got a good deal
of edge on?' asked Gethryn.

Farnie effected a masterly counter-stroke. He pretended not to be able
to hear. He was sorry, but would the Bishop mind repeating his remark.

'Eh? What?' he said. 'Very sorry, but this cab's making such a row. I
say, cabby, why don't you sign the pledge, and save your money up to
buy a new cab? Eh? Oh, sorry! I wasn't listening.' Now, inasmuch as the
whole virtue of the 'wretched-little-kid-like-you' argument lies in the
crisp despatch with which it is delivered, Gethryn began to find, on
repeating his observation for the third time, that there was not quite
so much in it as he had thought. He prudently elected to change his
style of attack.

'It doesn't matter,' he said wearily, as Farnie opened his mouth to
demand a fourth encore, 'it wasn't anything important. Now, look here,
I just want to give you a few tips about what to do when you get to the
Coll. To start with, you'll have to take off that white tie you've got
on. Black and dark blue are the only sorts allowed here.'

'How about yours then?' Gethryn was wearing a somewhat sweet thing in
brown and yellow.

'Mine happens to be a First Eleven tie.'

'Oh! Well, as a matter of fact, you know, I was going to take off my
tie. I always do, especially at night. It's a sort of habit I've got
into.'