The group broke up. Wren went disconsolately upstairs to Kennedy's study; Walton smacked Spencer's head--more as a matter of form than because he had done anything special to annoy him--and retired to the senior dayroom; while Spencer, muttering darkly to himself, avoided a second smack and took cover in the junior room, where he consoled himself by toasting a piece of india-rubber in the gas till it made the atmosphere painful to breathe in, and recalling with pleasure the condition Walton's face had been in for the day or two following his encounter with Kennedy in the dormitory. Kennedy was working when Wren knocked at his door. He had not much time to spare on a bounds-breaking fag; and his manner was curt. "I saw you going into Rose's, in the High Street, this afternoon, Wren," he said, looking up from his Greek prose. "I didn't give you leave. Come up here after prayers tonight. Shut the door." Wren went down to consult Walton again. His attitude with regard to a licking from the head of the house was much like that of the other fags. Custom had, to a certain extent, inured him to these painful interviews, but still, if it was possible, he preferred to keep out of them. Under Fenn's rule he had often found a tolerably thin excuse serve his need. Fenn had so many other things to do that he was not unwilling to forego an occasional licking, if the excuse was good enough. And he never took the trouble to find out whether the ingenious stories Wren was wont to serve up to him were true or not. Kennedy, Wren reflected uncomfortably, had given signs that this easy-going method would not do for him. Still, it might be possible to hunt up some story that would meet the case. Walton had a gift in that direction. "He says I'm to go to his study after prayers," reported Wren. "Can't you think of any excuse that would do?" "Can't understand Fenn running you in," said Walton. "I thought he never spoke to Kennedy." Wren explained. "It wasn't Fenn who ran me in. Kennedy was down town, too, and twigged me going into Rose's. I went there and had tea after I got your things at the grocer's." "Oh, he spotted you himself, did he?" said Walton. "And he doesn't know Fenn saw you?" "I don't think so." "Then I've got a ripping idea. When he has you up tonight, swear that you got leave from Fenn to go down town." "But he'll ask him." "The odds are that he won't. He and Fenn had a row at the beginning of term, and never speak to one another if they can help it. It's ten to one that he will prefer taking your yarn to going and asking Fenn if it's true or not. Then he's bound to let you off." Wren admitted that the scheme was sound. At the conclusion of prayers, therefore, he went up again to Kennedy's study, with a more hopeful air than he had worn on his previous visit. "Come in," said Kennedy, reaching for the swagger-stick which he was accustomed to use at these ceremonies.