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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"


When she saw him she was touched to the very heart. Why, he had aged
in the last month a hundred years! He looked, sitting there, so
frail and helpless that it seemed wonderful that he should have been
able to get there at all.
His hair seemed to have an added intensity of whiteness to-night,
and his beard lay against the black cloth of his gown with a
contrast so sharp that it was unreal. Maggie fancied, as she watched
him, that he was bewildered and scarcely knew where he was. Once he
looked up and round about him; he put his hand to his brow and then
let it fall as though he had no longer any control over it.
She was now so touched by the pathos of his helplessness that she
could think of nothing else and longed to go to him and comfort him.
Time stole on and it was now ten minutes to twelve. They sang
another hymn, but the voices were very weak and feeble and the words
quivered round the building in a ghostly whisper. Then Thurston came
to the Master and gave him his arm and led him to the reading-desk.
The old man seemed for a moment as though he would fall, then,
holding to the front of the desk, he spoke in a very weak and
faltering voice.


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