He was roused from his reverie by some one putting his head round the corner of the door and exclaiming,-- "Hullo, 'Thirsty!'" "Hullo, Fletcher! where on earth have you been all the evening ?" The new-comer was tall and lanky; he had a sharp, foxy-looking face, with thin, straight lips, and two deep lines which looked almost like scars between the eyebrows.

He shut the door, and dragging forward a chair, sat down with his feet on the fender, and commenced warming his hands at the fire.
"Oh, I've been nowhere in particular," he answered, laughing.

"But I say, young man, you seem to have raised a pretty good hornets' nest about your ears along this corridor." "Yes, I know; they've had the cheek to send me that!" He leaned back as he spoke, and taking a piece of paper from the table, tossed it across to his friend.

It was a letter signed by most of the prefects, suggesting that he should send in his resignation.
"Humph!" said Fletcher; "that's a nice sort of a round robin, don't you call it?
Well, what are you going to do ?" "Oh, I shall resign and have done with it.

I'm sick of having to masquerade about as a good boy.