ten sovereigns, one half-sovereign, and a good deal of silver. One of
the institutions at Beckford was a mission. The School by (more or
less) voluntary contributions supported a species of home somewhere in
the wilds of Kennington. No one knew exactly what or where this home
was, but all paid their subscriptions as soon as possible in the term,
and tried to forget about it. Gethryn collected not only for
Leicester's House, but also for the Sixth Form, and was consequently,
if only by proxy, a man of large means. _Too_ large, Farnie
thought. Surely four pounds, to be paid back (probably) almost at once,
would not be missed. Why shouldn't he--

'Hullo!'

Farnie spun round. Wilson was standing in the doorway.

'Hullo, Farnie,' said he, 'what are you playing at in here?'

'What are you?' retorted Farnie politely.

'Come to fetch a book. Marriott said I might. What are you up to?'

'Oh, shut up!' said Farnie. 'Why shouldn't I come here if I like?
Matter of fact, I came to see Gethryn.'

'He isn't here,' said Wilson luminously.

'You don't mean to say you've noticed that already? You've got an eye
like a hawk, Wilson. I was just taking a look round, if you really want
to know.'