Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol 4, No. 6. June 18, 1941
Victoria
Victoria
Extrav. was over. It was Thursday morning and [ unclear: Viki] lay in bed nursing her memories and a nervous headache. It was not the night before but the daze after that she objected to. Viki blushed. She remembered all the events of the previous night. Poor Menace had been so exhausted by his exacting role as Bulldozer Bob that he had literally staggered from the set. Viki forgetting her own sorrow in the contemplation of another's Kneed, rushed to help him. She had finally managed to deposit him at the Wellington Boating Club. He had begged her to stay with him (he had not said for how long). "No, no, a thousand times no!" Viki had exclaimed (she had learned something from Extrav.). "I'd rather die than say yes, Mr. Partley."
She clutched at the coat of a passing figure but it was regarded merely as a gesture of affection and she felt herself swept into the dance in the strong arms of—Knowall Coward!
What a thrill. Viki had seen him hailed as the greatest actor of the age (so stimulating to the ego) by no less a paper than the "Women's Weakly." He would go far she felt, though perhaps not so far as the Extrav. Organiser, Phony Chortle, who had actually gone right out. If only the dance would go on forever! But it was a vain hope. With a graceful gesture KnowaU excused himself and made for the door. How far could he be going? She would follow him, and like the Mounty she was—she would get her man. Downstairs she went, and found herself in a subterranean vault festooned with overcoats instead of cobwebs. She could not pursue him any further, she felt. Her modesty forbade it. She turned to flee, but her way, was barred by a group of members of the Younger Set fresh from a cocktail party and flourishing bottles and glasses. They crowded in on her, uttering incoherent cries. She gathered they wanted her to have a drink. They had several. Then she realised with a start of horror that their intentions were Osculatory! She shrieked for help, but no help came. Then into the cloakroom who should come rushing to her aid but—Sex Callin'! With his usual quiet efficiency he extracted her from the mob and threw her on a tea wagon, and so up the stairs to the dance floor. Round and round they went, collecting on the way Nutty Williamson and Chorus. The wagon broke after the fourth round. Nutty pounced on the pieces. "What does he want them for?" Viki asked Sex. "Just a force of habit. He's collecting props," he explained. Rather selfish of him Viki thought, when there were so many people, e.g., Borian Faker, Falec McLoud, and Bluebird Dinnefords—who needed props des-parately to get them home. Safe in the strong, quiet, efficient, etc., arms of Housemaster Callin', Viki felt secure. She needed no other support (tough luck for Berlei).