As he sat down, his eyes rested with withering
scorn upon Alec Forbes, who instantly started to his feet amidst a
confusion of plaudits and hisses, but, finding it absolutely impossible
to speak so as to be heard, contented himself with uttering a sonorous
_ba-a-a-a_, and instant dropped into his seat, all the other outcries
dissolving in shouts of laughter. In a moment he received a candle full
in the face; its companions went flying in all directions, and the room
was in utter darkness. A scramble for the door followed; and amidst
struggling, shouting, and swearing, the whole company rolled down the
stair into the quadrangle, most of them without their caps, and some
with their new gowns torn from bottom to top. The night was hideous
with the uproar. In the descent, Alec received a blow on the head which
half stunned him; but he did not imagine that its severity was other
than an accident of the crush. He made the best of his way home, and
went to bed.
After this he was popular; and after this, as often as Patrick
Beauchamp and he passed each other in walking up and down the arcade,
Beauchamp's high curved upper lip would curve yet higher, and Alec
would feel with annoyance that he could not sustain the glance of his
gray eyes.
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