Fanshaw stared straight ahead of him. He'd never speak to Cham again after this. When the bellboy leaned over the desk to say something to the clerk, the eight brass buttons on his coattails flashed in the light. The clerk laughed creakily. Fanshaw clenched his fists. Damn them, what had he let himself be inveigled into this for? He looked at the floor; balanced on the edge of a spittoon a cigar stub still gave off a little wisp of smoke. The temptations of college life; as he sat with his neatly polished oxfords side by side, making the chair rock by a slight movement of the muscles of his thin calves, he thought of the heart-to-heart talk Mr. Crownsterne had given the sixth form this time last year about the temptations of college life. The soapy flow of Mr. Crownsterne's voice booming in his ears: You are now engaged, fellows, in that perilous defile through which all of us have to pass to reach the serene uplands of adult life. You have put behind you the pleasant valleys and problems of boyhood, and before you can assume the duties and responsibilities of men you have to undergo--we all of us have had to undergo--the supreme test. You all know, fellows, the beautiful story of the Holy Grail ... Galahad ... purity and continence ... safest often the best course ... shun not the society of the lovely girls of our own class ... honest and healthy entertainment ... dances and the beautiful flow of freshness and youth ... but remember to beware in whatever circle of life the duties and responsibilities of your careers may call you to move, of those unfortunate women who have rendered themselves unworthy of the society of our mothers and sisters ... of those miserable and disinherited creatures who, although they do not rebuff and disgust us immediately with their loathsomeness as would common prostitutes, yet ... Remember that even Jesus Christ, our Saviour, prayed not to be led into temptation. O, fellows, when you go out from these walls I want you to keep the ideals you have learned and that you have taught by your example as sixth formers ... the spotless armor of Sir Galahad ... The rocking chair creaked. The clock above the desk had ticked its way to eleven fifteen. Old Crowny's phrases certainly stayed in your mind. Suppose we met mother on the trolley? No, she'd be at church. Nonsense, and these were respectable girls anyway; they wouldn't lead into temptation. A heap lot more respectable than lots of the girls you met at dances. Why don't they come? "Gee, I bet they weren't up yet," said Cham giggling. "What, at eleven o'clock?" "They don't usually get up till one or two." "I suppose being up so late every night." Fanshaw could not get his voice above a mysterious whisper. He sat in the rocking chair without moving and stared at the clock. Eleven thirty-six. The bellboy stood in front of the desk, his eyes fixed on vacancy. The bellboy grinned and drew a red hand across his slick black hair.