Emerging from his corner he put his hands carelessly in his pockets and advanced to meet his former friend, whistling a jaunty tune.
He was half afraid Dick might not see him, but Dick had a quick eye for a friend, and hailed him half across the Quadrangle.
"Hullo, Georgie, old man!" said he, running up.

"So awfully sorry you couldn't come on our spree too.

What's the matter ?" What, indeed?
Georgie, with an elaborate air of unconsciousness either of the voice or the presence of his comrade, walked on looking straight in front of him and whistling more jauntily than ever.
Dick stood for a moment aghast.

He would fain have believed his chum had either not seen him or was joking.

But a sinking at his heart told him otherwise, and a rush of anger told him that whatever the reason might be it was an unjust one.
So he checked his inclination to pursue his friend and demand an explanation there and then, and strolled on, whistling himself.
Heathcote pursued his dignified walk until he concluded he might safely stop whistling and venture to peep round.
When he did so he was dismayed to see Dick walking arm in arm across the Quadrangle with Coote, laughing at some narration which that pliable young gentleman was giving.
Poor Georgie! This was the hardest blow of all.