Now and then there was a thud, as if some heavy piece of furniture had fallen, unexpectedly, of its own accord, not in the general stir of life after dinner.

One supposed that young men raised their eyes from their books as the furniture fell.

Were they reading?
Certainly there was a sense of concentration in the air.

Behind the grey walls sat so many young men, some undoubtedly reading, magazines, shilling shockers, no doubt; legs, perhaps, over the arms of chairs; smoking; sprawling over tables, and writing while their heads went round in a circle as the pen moved--simple young men, these, who would--but there is no need to think of them grown old; others eating sweets; here they boxed; and, well, Mr.
Hawkins must have been mad suddenly to throw up his window and bawl: "Jo--seph! Jo--seph!" and then he ran as hard as ever he could across the court, while an elderly man, in a green apron, carrying an immense pile of tin covers, hesitated, balanced, and then went on.

But this was a diversion.