I don't mind saying that as I walked off the ground I should have been glad if there had been less fog; I had suffered so much after the Cambridge try, that I should have been pleased if everybody had seen the finish; but after all Fred had managed to discover what had happened, and if there had not been a fog, I expect I should not have tried to intercept that pass, for it would have looked quite awful if I had not happened to do it. All kinds of people congratulated me, and Adamson was good enough to acknowledge that I had atoned for my previous mistake; but I could not help wondering what he would have said if the Cambridge man had not happened to make such a bad pass. There was a condescension about Adamson which roused my worst passions, for of all the blues I have seen he was the only one who ever took an insane delight in himself, and unfortunately he belonged to a college which so seldom had a blue, that when they did get one they almost worshipped him. After the game was over I went back to the Langham, for Fred and I had arranged to go to a theatre with Jack Ward; but I have only the vaguest idea of the performance I watched. I had slept badly the night before, and now that the match was over, nothing could keep me awake, so I had to be given up as hopeless, though Fred gave me an occasional dig with his elbow just to keep me from snoring. By the time the play was over I was properly awake again, and so satisfied with myself, that when I met Dennison going out of the theatre I was even glad to see him. "Ward told me you were coming here," he said. "What are you going to do now?" "Going home, I suppose," I answered; but I cannot say that I cared much where I went. "Let's go to the Parma, there is sure to be a rag on there," he said to Jack, and after some discussion we walked down Shaftesbury Avenue. I think the air of the town must have got into Dennison's head, for I had not walked far before I was in more than my usual state of rage with him. He ordered us about most abominably, and seemed to think that I was sure to lose my way unless I kept close to him. As a matter of fact, neither Fred nor I knew London well, but I resented being treated like an infant, and if Dennison only looked after us out of kindness, I did not see why he should do it at the top of his voice. I had an inexplicable feeling that it was the duty of every one to know something about London, and although I should not have recognized Piccadilly Circus when I saw it, I was quite prepared to put that down to the fog; for if Dennison had not taken so much for granted, I should never willingly have given myself away to him.