It was not until he had reached his study that Sheen thoroughlyrealised what he had done. All the way home he had been defendinghimself eloquently against an imaginary accuser; and he had built up avery sound, thoughtful, and logical series of arguments to show that hewas not only not to blame for what he had done, but had acted in highlystatesmanlike and praiseworthy manner. After all, he was in the sixth.

　　Not a prefect, it was true, but, still, practically a prefect. Theheadmaster disliked unpleasantness between school and town, much moreso between the sixth form of the school and the town. Therefore, he haddone his duty in refusing to be drawn into a fight with Albert andfriends. Besides, why should he be expected to join in whenever he sawa couple of fellows fighting? It wasn't reasonable. It was no businessof his. Why, it was absurd. He had no quarrel with those fellows. Itwasn't cowardice. It was simply that he had kept his head better thanDrummond, and seen further into the matter. Besides....

　　But when he sat down in his chair, this mood changed. There is a vastdifference between the view one takes of things when one is walkingbriskly, and that which comes when one thinks the thing over coldly. Ashe sat there, the wall of defence which he had built up slipped awaybrick by brick, and there was the fact staring at him, without coveringor disguise.

　　It was no good arguing against himself. No amount of argument couldwipe away the truth. He had been afraid, and had shown it. And he hadshown it when, in a sense, he was representing the school, when Wrykynlooked to him to help it keep its end up against the town.

　　The more he reflected, the more he saw how far-reaching were theconsequences of that failure in the hour of need. He had disgracedhimself. He had disgraced Seymour's. He had disgraced the school. Hewas an outcast.

　　This mood, the natural reaction from his first glow of almost jauntyself-righteousness, lasted till the lock-up bell rang, when it wassucceeded by another. This time he took a more reasonable view of theaffair. It occurred to him that there was a chance that his defectionhad passed unnoticed. Nothing could make his case seem better in hisown eyes, but it might be that the thing would end there. The housemight not have lost credit.

　　An overwhelming curiosity seized him to find out how it had all ended.

　　The ten minutes of grace which followed the ringing of the lock-up bellhad passed. Drummond and the rest must be back by now.

　　He went down the passage to Drummond's study. Somebody was inside. Hecould hear him.

　　He knocked at the door.

　　Drummond was sitting at the table reading. He looked up, and there wasa silence. Sheen's mouth felt dry. He could not think how to begin. Henoticed that Drummond's face was unmarked. Looking down, he saw thatone of the knuckles of the hand that held the book was swollen and cut.