This afternoon I was busy thinking in my office when I heard a sound in the corridor outside.
I flung open my office door.
I flung open my second office door.*
An unsightly clump of postgraduates were clinging together, making their usual gargling sounds. When they saw me, they tore their hair and gestured towards the sign on their common room door.
It is fortunate I had my box-brownie to hand so that I can now share with you what I saw.
* Indeed, that’s right, dear Reader. Not for me one of those flimsy single doors indicative of lowly status and absence of ambition through which the
cries gerundial declensions of students can be heard. My rooms have a inner door, and and outer door, made of the finest unsustainable hardwood.