"I didn't say it, White, you liar! Shut up, will you? You might hurt me seriously. Go away. I hate you! Oh, hang it!"--(this was when the books struck him on the elbow),--"it hurts, Moles. Leave off, while I rub my elbow." The gentle giant responded to this reasonable request; the books dropped; and Doe, looking reproachfully at his executioner, set about massaging his elbow. "Ray," he said, when the operation was complete, "is there any known means of removing this nightmare?" Immediately his uplifted arm was seized in White's huge paw. Doe's eyes were sparkling, his cheeks red, and his hair tumbled. His right arm being now held, he laughed more loudly and nervously and raised his left. "By Jove, White," he cried, "if you rouse my ire, I'll get up and lick you. Let go of my hand--it's not yours. Oh, shut up, you great swine! Hang it, Ray"--(this with a shriek, half of laughter, half of anticipation)--"he's got my left hand as well--O, White, I'm sorry." White held both his victim's wrists in one hand. Too honourable to take advantage of this, he swung his books at a distance and said: "You've got to play at the nets, do you hear?" My friend simulated anger. Struggling to get free, he ejaculated: "I'll not be ordered about by an Iguanodon. I'm not that sort of man. O, White, I said I was--he, he, ha!--sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I didn't see it in that light--" "Whack" came the books gently on his back. "Oh, please, Moles White, please stop. There's a dear old Iguanodon. Ow--Ow--Ow!" By this time Doe was much out of breath, and his sentences were short and broken: "It doesn't hurt. It's lovely! Ray, don't stand there grinning like this chimpanzee, White." Suddenly at an upward swing the slender strap broke, and the books crashed through the window. "Damn!" said White. Doe, flushed and dishevelled, picked himself out of his chair. "That's what comes of bullying, Moles White. I'll pay for it. It was my beastly fault!" "No, you won't," said White. "Don't presume to contradict me, Moles White, or I'll lick you! I have stated that I'll pay for it." "No," White decided. "We'll split the difference and go shags." I felt the old fellow was not displeased at this compromise, for his purse had its limitations. He withdrew from the scene and left us to our confidential chat. When he had gone, there set in a reaction from the excited liveliness of his visit. Doe looked sadly through the broken pane and said: "Isn't Moles a corking old thing? The sort of chap who's naturally good, and couldn't be anything else if he tried." Something wistful in the words caused me to see a vision of the gravel-path sweeping to the doorway of the baths. "I say, Doe," I began, "have you ever felt that you'd like to be--something different from the ordinary run?" Doe swung round on me. "Have I ever? Why, you know, Rupert, that I'm the most ambitious person in the world. And, by Jove! I believe I might have done something great--"