If you won't let me go in for the army--I could pass my exams to-morrow--I'm off.

I'll enlist without waiting for the war.

I can't bear this idle life any longer." Mr.Fentolin leaned a little forward in his chair.
"Gerald!" he said softly.
The boy turned his head, turned it unwillingly.

He had the air of a caged animal obeying the word of his keeper.

A certain savage uncouthness seemed to have fallen upon him during the last few minutes.
There was something almost like a snarl in his expression.
"Gerald!" Mr.Fentolin repeated.
Then it was obvious that there was something between those two, some memory or some living thing, seldom, if ever, to be spoken of, and yet always present.