Accrington called it coffee, but Reggie stipulated for a bottle of brandy to be kept in the cupboard. As Freddy and I climbed the staircase in the corner of the Quad we heard the strident tones of our host proclaiming that he was ‘looking for a needle in a haystack.’ This, however, did not in any way justify Freddy’s throwing an empty tobacco tin at him immediately on entering the room, and it seemed only just that the others should show their disapproval of this action by throwing their cushions at Freddy. I alone missed him, but the Pilot was rude enough to say that I must have aimed at Freddy, because I got in a bull’s-eye on a tray containing glasses and syphons which was balanced on a Japanese stool in the corner. When peace had been restored, Reggie, addressing no one in particular, remarked, ‘The Pilot was seen at the gathering at Martyrs’ Memorial last night.’ ‘You’re an artistic liar,’ replied the Pilot, who is not as meek as he looks. And the slight struggle that ensued awoke Fatty, who was peacefully perusing ‘Pick-me-up’ in the corner. ‘I don’t know whose rooms these are,’ he murmured sleepily, ‘but it is customary among gentlemen to offer refreshment to a visitor upon arrival;’ and then, after a plaintive pause, ‘I have been here just three-quarters of an hour.’ After his thirst had been satisfied he was led to the piano, and proceeded to play ‘Hiawatha,’ ‘in order,’ as Reggie explained, ‘to get it over.’ ‘Henry Dalston,’ said Freddy, addressing the pianist, ‘as a balloon you are incomparable, but as an ivory-thumper you only take a gulf, and if the same would swallow you up it would be better still.’ ‘He takes,’ said Accrington wearily, ‘he takes at least five pounds’ worth of use out of my piano every term; “Hiawatha” about plays itself now.’ ‘Then why don’t you make him hire a piano?’ said Reggie. ‘He used to,’ put in Freddy with a gurgling laugh, ‘until we played it the night he was in London, and the Dean had it sent out of College before he came back.’ These revelations were interrupted by Reggie suggesting bridge. He once taught a Colonial Governor the game at a Swiss mountain hotel, and the Pilot, who was with him, said he made enough to keep them in smokes for a week. ‘Reggie’s getting too uppish about bridge,’ I remarked, as Accrington produced the cards, ‘he thinks he’s rather an authority.’ ‘Nobody,’ replied Reggie, severely, ‘nobody is an authority on any game till he can be sure of winning money off his opponents.’ ‘How many does it take to play bridge?’ asked Fatty, peevishly, from the window-seat; ‘I hate these card games, they’re always so dull.’ ‘Then you shan’t be dull, Henry dearest,’ said Freddy, landing upon Fatty’s lower chest, and then, as he led him by his starboard ear into Accrington’s bedder, ‘Come with your Frederick, and let us cuddle together.’ As they disappeared, Accrington, moved by reminiscences of former quiet evenings, called after them uneasily: