“I am Job,” groaned Mr. Marrapit. “I expected this. The strain is unendurable. It is unnatural. The next chance shall be your last. What is the fee for re-examination?”
“Five guineas.”
“My God!” said Mr. Marrapit.
He tottered away up the path.
CHAPTER II
Excursions In Melancholy.
I.
Gloom brooded over Herons' Holt that evening. Gloom hung thickly about the rooms: blanketed conversation; veiled eyes that might have sparkled; choked appetites.