"I've got to go to the Subby in ten minutes," I said, and Collier's face brightened. "I didn't think you would have to go," Ward remarked; "what an infernal nuisance, and why has he sent for you?" "I tried to rescue the stupid man from Lambert and Webb, and got entangled in his blessed arm. He was as sick as blazes, and I shall hear more stuff about being an exhibitioner," I answered. "The man's a fool," Collier said, "but the biggest ass in the place is Dennison. He knew the Subby was out to dinner, and wouldn't be back till goodness knows when, but he must go on and kick up a row on that piano after he knew the Subby was in his rooms. And the beauty of it is that Dennison hasn't been sent for. I call it a confounded shame. We have just been round to see him, and the brute is still in bed as fit as anything, and thinks it the best joke he has heard for ages. He wouldn't see much humour in it if he went and smelt my rooms." "Who has been sent for?" I asked. "You, Collier, Lambert, and Webb," Ward replied. "Not you?" "I have seen the Subby already. I met him in the quad and asked if I might speak to him." "Was he furious?" I inquired. "I tried to explain things to him; he was not altogether furious, but stuck on a sort of injured dignity business which was rather funny." "It isn't likely a man would want to be danced down-stairs by Lambert and Webb," Collier said; "I wonder they didn't break his neck, and it would have been a thundering good job if they had smashed themselves." I got up and seized my gown, leaving Collier to continue his wishes for the destruction of Lambert and Webb if he felt inclined. At any other time they would have amused me, for Collier was generally difficult to move in any way, and he was quite funny when his indignation could be roused.