Oh my! fancy Tempest-- Hullo, I say, there he is.

Cut away, kid, before he sees you." And the youth set me a prompt example.
I was sorry he had not remained to witness the fact that I was not quite the outsider he took me for.
Tempest was strolling across the road, arm-in-arm with a friend.

He certainly was not got up in the "form" which he had prescribed for me.
He wore a straw hat on the back of his head, and boots of unmistakable blackness.

But then, though an exhibitioner himself once, he had now attained to the dignity of a senior, and was probably exempt from the laws binding on new boys.
As he approached I crossed the road to meet him, full of joy at the prospect of encountering at least one friend, and marching under his protection into my new quarters.

But I was doomed to a slight disappointment.