Amy pretended to view Clint’s advancement to the second team with alarm

Amy pretended to view Clint’s advancement to the second team with alarm.
“First thing I know,” he said gloomily, “I’ll be rooming with a regular
Greek. You’ll be having photographs taken to show your superb physical
development, I dare say, and writing letters to the _Bulletin_ signed
‘Athlete.’ As a matter of fact, Clint, I happened to see that
performance this afternoon and you didn’t fool me a bit. You tackled
Carmine because he was in the way and you ran into him and put your arms
around him to keep from falling on your nose. It was no brilliancy of
yours that made the poor chap fumble the ball. You hit him like a load
of bricks! If I’d been Carmine I’d have up and biffed you one! You
were–were distinctly ungentlemanly, Clint. You should remember that
even in football there are limits. To deliberately try to kill an
opponent, as you did today, is not considered good form. Besides,
Carmine’s a friend of mine. We come from the same metropolis. It would
be a very painful thing if I had to write home to his folks that he had
been killed on the field of battle by my room-mate. A most painful and
embarrassing duty for me, Clint.”