That was not quite the case. He wanted to know whether there was any movement, or even any strong feeling, in his favour; but it was a sudden want, and he could not bring himself to clothe it in words. It was his prototype's hope of a reprieve, entertained with as little reason, more as a passing irresistible thought.
"They say there was nothing the matter with you yesterday afternoon."
"No more there was. I was shamming."
Chips experienced something of Heriot's revulsion at this avowal.
"They say you went off—to—meet somebody."
"How did they get hold of that, I should like to know?"
Of course the masters had been talking; why should they not? But then why had Heriot pretended that nobody was to know just yet? Why had Haigh talked about the worst cases being kept quiet? Chips allayed rising resentment by saying he believed it had come through a fly-man, whereupon Jan admitted that it was perfectly true.
"They say you drove out to Yardley Wood."
"So I did."
"It was madness!"
Jan shrugged his powerful shoulders.
"I took my risks, and I was bowled out, that's all."
Chips looked at him; the cynically glib admissions were ceasing to grate on him, were beginning to excite the incredulity with which he had first heard of the suicidal escapade. This shameless front was not a bit like Jan, whatever he had done, and Chips who knew him best was the first to perceive it.
"I wish I knew why you'd done it!" he exclaimed ingenuously.
