It was plain that all shared some joke against his friend Bonaday; but he had no clue.
"And," pursued Mrs.Royle, "here's his best friend tellin' us as 'tis a scandal the way women push themselves into St.Hospital--'when they're not wanted,' did I hear you say, sir?
Yes, 'a scandal' he said, and 'indecent'; which I leave it to you is pretty strong language as addressed to a woman what has her marriage lines I should hope!" Brother Copas, bewildered by this onslaught--or, as he put it later, comparing the encounter with that between Socrates and Gorgias the Sophist--drenched with that woman's slop-pail of words and blinded for the moment, received his portion of mutton and drew aside, vanquished amid peals of laughter, of which he guessed only from its note that the allusion had been disgusting.

Indeed, the whole atmosphere of the kitchen sickened him; even the portion of mutton cooling on his plate raised his gorge in physical loathing.
But Brother Bonaday lay helpless in his chamber, without food.
Remembering this, Brother Copas stood his ground and waited, with the spare plate ready for the invalid's portion.
The babel went on as one after another fought for the spoil.
They had forgotten him, and those at the back of the crowd had found a new diversion in hustling old Biscoe as he struggled to get away with his two cutlets of half-warm mutton.
Brother Copas held his gaze upon the joints.

His friend's turn came all but last on the rota; and by perversity--but who could blame it, in the month of June ?--everyone eschewed the pork and bid emulously for mutton, roast or boiled.

He knew that Brother Bonaday abhorred pork, which, moreover, was indigestible, and by consequence bad for a weak heart.

He stood and watched, gradually losing all hope except to capture a portion of the mutton near the scrag-end.