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Updated: May 3, 2025
We were near to becoming friends that morning. He confessed to no one but me. But when the affair was over he bore himself very well he resumed his usual airs of superiority, and snubbed me when I attempted to sympathise with him. And I saw, now, just the same boyish dread and perplexity that I had seen when he made his confession to me at Oakstone.
I turned and looked at Jervaise and found him facing me with the full light of the moon on his face. He was frowning, not with the domineering scowl of the cross-examining counsel, but with a perplexed, inquiring frown that revealed all the boy in him. Once at Oakstone he had got into a serious scrape that had begun in bravado and ended by a public thrashing.
Although I had never before that afternoon seen Jervaise's home nor any of his people with the exception of the brother now in India, I had known Frank Jervaise for fifteen years. We had been at Oakstone together, and had gone up the school form by form in each other's company. After we left Oakstone we were on the same landing at Jesus, and he rowed "two" and I rowed "bow" in the college boat.
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