Now he once more felt the
clouds sinking about him, was aware of many a threatening portent,
the meaning whereof he too well understood. There had been a week or
two of prevailing bad weather, a state of things which always
wrought harmfully upon him; his thoughts darkened under the dark
sky, and the daily downpour of rain sapped his energies. It was
within a few days of Easter, but the prospect of a holiday had no
effect upon him. Night after night he lay in fever and unrest. He
felt as though some voice were calling upon him to undertake a
vaguely hazardous enterprise which yet he knew not the nature of.
On one of these evenings, Mr. O'Gree announced to him that Miss
Enderby was going to give up her position at the end of the quarter.
Philip had gathered this from a conversation heard during the day
between Dr. Tootle and his wife.
"The light of my life will be gone out," exclaimed O'Gree, "when I
am no longer able to catch a glimpse of her as she goes past the
schoolroom door. And I've never even had a chance of speaking to
her. You know the tale of Raleigh and Queen Elizabeth. Suppose I
were to rush out and throw my top-coat on the muddy door-step, just
as she's going out; d'ye think she'd say thank you?"
"Probably," muttered Waymark, without knowing what he said.
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