'Learn anything new.9'
'Wouldn't go quite so far as that. What about you?'
'Interesting. That woman, well---she's a sort of major-domo Amazonian type, sir. I wouldn't like her as Chief Constable.'
'Give it five years, Lewis.'
'Anyway, it's about Matthew Rodway. In the autumn term--'
'We call it the Michaelmas Term here, Lewis.'
'In the Michaelmas Term, in his third year, when he was back in college again--'
'In the House.'
'In the House again, he was sharing rooms with another fellow---'
'Another undergraduate.'
'Another undergraduate called Ashley Davies. But not for long, it seems. Davies got himself temporarily booted out of college--'
'Rusticated.'
'Rusticated that term. Some sort of personal trouble, she said, but didn't want to go into it. Said we should see Da-vies tbr ourselves, really.'
'Like me, then, you didn't learn very much.'
'Ah! Just a minute, sir,' smiled Lewis. 'Mr. Ashley Da-vies, our undergraduate, in the Michaelmas Term 1993, was rusticated from the House on e sayso of one Dr. Felix Mc Clure, former Student--capital 'S,' sir--of Wolsey Col- lege.'
'°The plot thickens.'
'Bad blood, perhaps, sir? Ruined his chances, cer-tainly--Davies was expected to get a First, she'd heard.
And he didn't return this year, either. Murky circum stances ... Drugs, do you think?'
'Or booze,'
'Or love.'
'Well?'
'I've got his address. Living with his parents in Bed-ford.'
'Did any good thing ever come out of Bedford?'
'John Bunyan, sir?'
'You go and see him, then. I can't do everything myself.'
'What's wrong?' asked Lewis quietly.
'I dunno. My chest's sore. My legs ache. My bead's throbbing. I feel sick. I feel sweaty. It's the wrong question, isn't it? You mean, what's right?'
'Have you had your pills.9'
'Course I have. Somebody's got to keep fit.'
'When were you last fit, sir?'
Morse pulled the safety-belt across him and fumbled for a few seconds to fix the tongue into the buckle. 'I don't ever remember feeling really fit.'
'I'm sure you'll blast my head off, sir, but--'
'I ought not to drink so much.'
'I wouldn't be surprised if you'd just washed your pills down with a pint.'
'Would you be surprised if you were quite wrong about that?'
'Washed 'em down with two pints, you mean?'
Morse smiled and wiped his forehead with a ortwh handkerchief.
'You know the difference between us, sir--betveen y and me T'
'Fell me.'
'I got married, and so I've got a missus who' alw tried to look after me.'
'You're lucky, though. Most people your age are vorced by now.'
'You never--never met a woman---you know, the ri woman?'
Morse's eyes seemed focused far away. 'Nearly, Nero once.'
'Plenty of time.'
'Nonsense! You don't start things at my age. ?u p 'em up. Like the job, Lewis.' Morse hesitated. 'L%k' I not told anybody yet--well, only Strange. I'm Packing the job next autumn.'
