Free That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis Page B

subject?"
         "Oh, not in the least. I say, Feverstone, oughtn't we to give this new subject a leg up?"
         "What new subject?"
         "Pragmatometry."
         "Well, now, it's funny you should say that, because the man I was beginning to think of has been going in a good deal for pragmatometry. One could call it a fellowship in social pragmatometry, or something like that."
         "Who is the man?"
         "Laird-from Leicester, Cambridge."It was automatic for Curry, though he had never heard of Laird, to say "Ah, Laird. Just remind me of the details."
         "Well," said Feverstone, "as you remember, he was in bad health at the time of his finals, and came rather a cropper. The Cambridge examining is so bad nowadays that one hardly counts that. He used to edit The Adult."
         "Yes, to be sure. That Laird. But I say, Dick . . ."
         "Yes?"
         "I'm not quite happy about his bad degree. Of course I don't attach a superstitious value to examination results any more than you do. Still . . . we have made one or two unfortunate elections lately."
         "I'm going to be at Cambridge next week," Feverstone said, " in fact I'm giving a dinner. I'd as soon it wasn't mentioned here, because, as a matter of fact, the P.M. may be coming, and one or two big newspaper people and Tony Dew. What? Oh, of course you know Tony. That little dark man from the Bank. Laird is going to be there. He's some kind of cousin of the P.M.'s. I was wondering if you could join us."
         "Well, it would be very difficult. It rather depends on when old Bill's funeral is to be. Was there anything about the inquest on the six-o'clock news?"
         "I can't hear," yelled Feverstone. "Is this noise getting worse? Or am I getting deaf?"
         "I say, Sub-Warden," shouted Ted Raynor from beyond Feverstone, "what the devil are your friends outside doing?"
         "Listen!" said Glossop suddenly, "that's not work. Listen to the feet."
         Next moment nearly everyone in the room was on his feet. "They're murdering someone," said Glossop. "There's only one way of getting a noise like that out of a man's throat."
         "Where are you going?" asked Curry.
         "I'm going to see what's happening," said Glossop. "I shouldn't go out if I were you," said Feverstone, "it sounds as if the police, or something, was there already."
         "What do you mean?"
         "Listen. There!"
         "I thought that was their infernal drill."
         "Listen!"
         "My God . . . you really think it's a machine-gun?"
         "Look out! Look out!" said a dozen voices, as a splintering of glass became audible and a shower of stones fell on to the Common Room floor. A moment later several of the Fellows had made a rush for the windows and put up the shutters. Glossop had a cut on the forehead, and on the floor lay the fragments of that famous east window on which Henrietta Maria had once cut her name with a diamond.
    CHAPTER FIVE
         ELASTICITY
         NEXT morning Mark went back to Belbury by train. This return-just sauntering in and hanging up his hat and ordering a drink-was a pleasant contrast to his first arrival. The servant who brought the drink knew him. Filostrato nodded to him. After the drink he strolled upstairs to Cosser's office.
         Steele and Cosser were both there. Neither spoke. "Ah-good morning," said Mark awkwardly. Steele finished making a pencil note. "What is it, Mr. Studdock?" he said without looking up.
         "I came to see Cosser," said Mark, and then, addressing Cosser, "I've been thinking over the last section in that report---"
         "What report's this?" said Steele to Cosser.
         "Oh, I thought," replied Cosser, with a little twisty smile at one corner of his mouth, "that it would be a good thing to put together a report on Cure Hardy. Mr. Studdock helped me."
         "Well, never mind about that now," said Steele.
         "You can talk to