Hello! There's Clive."
It was that lively young gentleman who came walking along the garden wall
and took a flying leap on to the path, just avoiding one of Tom's best
flower-beds.
"There's a whole tribe of ladies in the drawing-room!" he volunteered. "I
carried my tea into the summer-house! You won't catch me 'doing the
polite' if I can help it. Rather not! Have you bunked too? I don't blame
you. You're looking down in the mouth, both of you! Exams gone wrong this
afternoon? Shall I tell your fortunes again?"
"Your precious fortune has got us into a great deal of trouble," answered
Merle. "How did you manage to guess those questions? They were actually
in our papers!"
Clive pulled his face into a variety of grimaces.
"Ah! Wouldn't you just like to know!" he retorted. "Perhaps I keep a
familiar spirit, or perhaps I read things in the stars. I prophesy you'll
fail in all the rest of your exams! There!"
"You young wretch!" cried Merle, chasing him down the path as he fled.
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