Cardillac might lead the College, but he was, nevertheless, of common clay.

Lawrence was of the gods! Swift contrast the fat and shapeless Bunning! As the tremulous and almost tearful voice of little Erdington continued the solemn and dreary exposition of the Huns, Olva felt increasingly that Bunning's eye was upon him.

Olva had not seen the creature since the night of the revival, and he was irritated with himself for the persistence of his interest.
The man's pluck had, in the first place, struck him, but now it seemed to him that they were, in some undefinable measure, linked together.

As Olva watched him, half contemptuously, half sarcastically, he tried to pin his brain down to the actual, definite connection.

It seemed ultimately to hang round that dreadful evening when they had been together; it was almost---although this was absurd--as though Bunning knew; but, in spite of the certain assurance of his ignorance Olva felt as he moved uneasily under Bunning's gaze that the man himself was making some claim upon him.