His mother rose obediently.

To be seen with such a son in the crowded Oxford streets filled her with pride.

She could have walked beside him for hours.
At the college gate, Trix pinched her brother's arm.
"Well, Duggy, say it!" "Say what, you little scug ?" "'Thank God, I've got you out!'" laughed the child, laying her cheek against his coat-sleeve.

"That's what you're thinking.

You know you are.
I say, Duggy, you do look jolly in those colours!" "Don't talk rot!" grumbled Falloden, but he winked at her in brotherly fashion, and Trix was more than happy.