A dull, dogged boy like Dicky Brown might have done it; but I could not afford to be peculiar, and therefore succumbed, against my judgment, to the prevalent dry rot.
Now that a crisis had come I hoped Tempest might, if not for his own sake, for ours, pull up, and take his house in hand, as he well could do if he chose.

A short conversation I overheard as I was fagging in his study that morning, however, was not encouraging.
"What's it to be," said Wales, "a lecture or a row ?" "A row, I hope," said Tempest wearily.
"What's wrong, old chap ?" asked Pridgin.
"Nothing.

Out of curl, that's all," said Tempest, trying to assume a laugh.
"You're not going to cave in to Jarman at this time of day," said Wales, "are you ?" "Do you think it likely ?" said Tempest.
"I tell you what I don't like," said Pridgin presently; "that's the way Crofter's lately taken to do the virtuous." "That's not the worst of him," said Wales; "but he's been chumming up with Jarman.

I've met them twice lately walking together." "I suppose he's got his eye on the headship of the house," said Tempest, "when I get kicked out." "Look here, old chap," responded Pridgin, looking really anxious, "it's not to come to that, surely.

It would be intolerable to have him over us.