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I
passed
them
and
thought
to
myself
that
they
were
sure
to
accost
me
,
sure
to
fling
some
taunt
or
other
at
me
,
play
me
some
trick
;
and
as
I
got
near
enough
,
one
of
them
called
out
and
asked
what
I
had
under
my
arm
?
"
A
blanket
!
"
"
What
o'clock
is
it
?
"
he
asked
then
.
"
I
do
n't
know
rightly
;
about
three
,
I
think
!
"
Whereupon
they
both
laughed
and
drove
on
.
I
felt
at
the
same
moment
the
lash
of
a
whip
curl
round
one
of
my
ears
,
and
my
hat
was
jerked
off
.
They
could
n't
let
me
pass
without
playing
me
a
trick
.
I
raised
my
hand
to
my
head
more
or
less
confusedly
,
picked
my
hat
out
of
the
ditch
,
and
continued
on
my
way
.
Down
at
St.
Han
's
Hill
I
met
a
man
who
told
me
it
was
past
four
.
Past
four
!
already
past
four
!
I
mended
my
pace
,
nearly
ran
down
to
the
town
,
turned
off
towards
the
news
office
.
Perhaps
the
editor
had
been
there
hours
ago
,
and
had
left
the
office
by
now
.
I
ran
,
jostled
against
folk
,
stumbled
,
knocked
against
cars
,
left
everybody
behind
me
,
competed
with
the
very
horses
,
struggled
like
a
madman
to
arrive
there
in
time
.
I
wrenched
through
the
door
,
took
the
stairs
in
four
bounds
,
and
knocked
.
No
answer
.
"
He
has
left
,
he
has
left
,
"
I
think
.
I
try
the
door
which
is
open
,
knock
once
again
,
and
enter
.
The
editor
is
sitting
at
his
table
,
his
face
towards
the
window
,
pen
in
hand
,
about
to
write
.
When
he
hears
my
breathless
greeting
he
turns
half
round
,
steals
a
quick
look
at
me
,
shakes
his
head
,
and
says
:
"
Oh
,
I
have
n't
found
time
to
read
your
sketch
yet
.
"
I
am
so
delighted
,
because
in
that
case
he
has
not
rejected
it
,
that
I
answer
:
"
Oh
,
pray
,
sir
,
do
n't
mention
it
.
I
quite
understand
--
there
is
no
hurry
;
in
a
few
days
,
perhaps
--
"
