Friday was Mr. Hutton's class.
As usual, the old gentleman taught his lesson, rubbed his pipe at the podium, and left behind half a suggestive remark at some seemingly ordinary turn.
Today's topic was the material allocation system of the New Continent's early colonies, strictly within the realm of administrative history, without the slightest overlap with anything behind The Veil.
The bell rang, and the students packed their bags, ready to stream out.
"Williams, stay behind."
Familiar words. This time, the last few people in the classroom consciously quickened their pace as they left.
Mr. Hutton waited until the sounds in the hallway had faded completely before closing his lesson-plan folder and setting it at the corner of the podium.
"Did you make the list?"
"I did."
"That's good."
The old gentleman rose from his chair and went to the window to push it open.
The latch had rusted shut. He had to put some effort into it before it opened, letting in a cold wind carrying the smell of coal ash.
"Those on the recommendation list have a chance to join the Summer Study Program jointly organized by the Imperial Capital's higher institutions."
He pushed the window open another notch.
"You'll understand the value of that program once you attend it yourself."
Richard added the news to his agenda.
A Summer Study Program, jointly hosted by higher institutions.
The Classical Society was an outer organization of the academic system behind The Veil. A program jointly run by higher institutions would most likely lead deeper in.
As usual, Mr. Hutton said no more. He wedged the window half-open.
"Has the Cicero Cup prize money arrived?"
"I still need to withdraw it from the bank."
"Mm." The old gentleman nodded. "As long as you have a plan for it."
Richard smiled.