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This open invasion of the privacy of the club was something wholly outside their experience. A boy who didn’t belong might call there, of course, if he wished to see one of the members; but he would be expected to halt outside and hail the club with a shout, or, at the most, to knock at the door and pause outside. And he would be quite as anxious to observe this code as the members would be anxious that he should observe it. A fellow didn’t care to enter where he was not wanted, and if he had been wanted, he would have been elected to membership. That was the way the matter was reasoned out. The conclusion was accepted by everybody in interest. So for one of the town boys to walk up to the door, and throw it open, and look in at the assembled coterie, and do these things calmly and unconcernedly—well, none of the town boys would have thus conducted himself. But there was Paul Varley doing these things quite as a matter of course, thus proving himself not of the town and at the same time bringing embarrassment to the club.