"Yes, I hid a bottle of lemonade in my mattress!" declared Segal cunningly. "I'm not thirsty but I'm jolly peckish. My elder sister fainted, so I had to take her home. As for Esther--you know, my other sister--she's only fifteen, but she's dead nuts on fasting. Queer thing, the less she puts down the more she brings up! She's been sick all day!" "But that young scoundrel's not turned up yet! I wonder if anything's wrong?" "He's all right. His father doesn't stir a foot out of the _Polisher Shool_; he'll have had an opportunity to prig something to eat and drink!" "I don't think he can have backed out?" Segal suggested. "I don't think it's likely. He may be walking backward to draw attention away from his bowler hat. He doesn't like bowler hats!" "Or he may be writing a poem in a dark corner, being only young and somewhat foolish. He'll grow out of the first as time goes on." "Yes, he's amusing enough. But isn't that the illustrious bowler hat?" "Hello! Here we are! I say, bowler hat, have you seen Philip Massel?" "He's just coming!" said Philip, appearing at last. "Well, he's come! I'm starving, where's the shop?" "You've been at a banquet with Sir Timothy and the City Fathers; else why so late?" insisted Harry. "My mother was fearfully faint," replied Philip awkwardly. "I didn't like to leave her. It's a crime for her to fast, she's so weak nowadays! It's not been so bad for me, with some packets of biscuits at home and a copy of Milton for _shool_. But let's come along!" The boys walked up Cambridge Street and turned to the right towards a bridge over the Deadwater Canal. They passed through the door of an eating-house and the fat smells of frying enveloped them unpleasantly; they chose a table in a corner and sat before a lake of spilled gravy and the tin utensils. "It feels rather shifty, all this!" ventured Philip after a few moments. "Look here, lad, don't be conscientious at this time of day!" remonstrated Segal. "I mean when you think of the old men and the sick women who're a sight worse off than we are!" "Now, Philip," interposed Harry, "You know quite well it's not the beastly food. It's a symbol of freedom! We're not going to be enslaved any longer under the heel of these daft old superstitions. _Vive la liberté_ and all that sort of thing! I positively don't feel like eating now, as a matter of fact; the stink's rather thick. You know, Alec, you might have chosen something more encouraging than this hole." "Phew!" from Philip. "I prefer the smell of the _Polisher Shool_!" "We can't afford anything better. I should have preferred the New Carlton myself, I admit!" "There'd be too many Jews there! It would be too public!" Harry affirmed. "Well, young fellers," said a dishevelled lady at this stage, "wot are ye going to 'ave? Say it slick!" "Ham and eggs all round!" said Segal lordlily. "Righto!" The lady was bustling off. "Hold on!" Philip shouted after her concernedly.