And things had become monotonous once
more.
Having decided to go, Fenn began to consider how he should do it. And
here circumstances favoured him. It happened that on the evening on
which his brother's play was to be produced the headmaster was giving
his once-a-term dinner to the house-prefects. This simplified matters
wonderfully. The only time when his absence from the house was at all
likely to be discovered would be at prayers, which took place at
half-past nine. The prefects' dinner solved this difficulty for him.
Kay would not expect him to be at prayers, thinking he was over at the
Head's, while the Head, if he noticed his absence at all, would
imagine that he was staying away from the dinner owing to a headache
or some other malady. It seemed tempting Providence not to take
advantage of such an excellent piece of luck. For the rest, detection
was practically impossible. Kennedy's advent to the house had ousted
Fenn from the dormitory in which he had slept hitherto, and, there
being no bed available in any of the other dormitories, he had been
put into the spare room usually reserved for invalids whose invalidism
was not of a sufficiently infectious kind to demand their removal to
the infirmary. As for getting back into the house, he would leave the
window of his study unfastened. He could easily climb on to the
window-ledge, and so to bed without let or hindrance.
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