"On the contrary, he was a moral prig," Haythorne blurted out, with
apparently undue warmth. "He was a little scholastic shrimp
without a drop of red blood in his body."

"Did you know him?"

"Never laid eyes on him. I never knocked about in university
circles."

"One side of the shield again," Messner said, with an air of
weighing the matter judicially. While he did not amount to much,
it is true - that is, physically - I'd hardly say he was as bad as
all that. He did take an active interest in student athletics.
And he had some talent. He once wrote a Nativity play that brought
him quite a bit of local appreciation. I have heard, also, that he
was slated for the head of the English department, only the affair
happened and he resigned and went away. It quite broke his career,
or so it seemed. At any rate, on our side the shield, it was
considered a knock-out blow to him. It was thought he cared a
great deal for his wife."

Haythorne, finishing his mug of coffee, grunted uninterestedly and
lighted his pipe.

"It was fortunate they had no children," Messner continued.

But Haythorne, with a glance at the stove, pulled on his cap and
mittens.