the unpardonable, sin. He wished to heaven he had been swiped
before so that he might know his own capacity for endurance. Keats
became intolerable. House tea was a long-drawn agony. Discussion
centred on the match and the brilliant play of Raikes.

"What did old Spots want?" asked Caruth. "He seemed to be in the deuce
of a hair."

"Only about cleaning cups," said Martin gloomily.

"Thank the Lord I'm not a study-slut. Was he very ratty?"

"Oh, not very. Flannery, you hog, pass the bread."

The conversation had at any cost to be changed, and Martin was pleased
when the general attention was directed to the colossal hoggishness of
Flannery, who was mixing jam, sardines, and potted meat.

As time went on the agony of suspense grew like an avalanche, carrying
all before it. Martin did practically no work during prep. Impossible
to linger over algebra or the Bacchae when Spots and his cups obsessed
the mind. It was not the injustice of being victimised for a slip of
the memory when Pearson was in sicker, but the possibility of being
shown up as a coward that tortured him most. He knew that other boys
were swiped with some frequency and managed to pretend that they did
not mind. But it might turn out that he was not so tough as other
boys. Besides Spots had the wrist of a racket player and was renowned
for his powers of castigation. And then there was the poetry circle.
If the worst happened, he would have to cut that and explain
afterwards. What on earth could he say? The thought was too horrid
for consideration.

After prep and supper Mr Berney used to read prayers, while the boys
knelt down and thought about any odd subject that came to mind. They
were not, as a house, particularly irreligious, but it is astonishingly
easy to acquire the habit of saying 'Amen' at the right place and
repeating the Lord's Prayer without being aware of your actions. But
to-night Martin was conscious of all that was said and did not open his
lips. As he gazed in silence at the backs of the wooden benches he
began to feel physically sick.

After prayers the house dispersed to talk, or finish work, or go to
bed. Martin hurried to Leopard's study. There he waited for five
age-long minutes: he felt that a hundred swipings would be better than
this delay. The study seemed a vast blur of photographs, all dim and
misty except one: that was a large picture of Kiddie, the equestrienne,
who beamed on him from close at ha