“What a difference it would make if you had to go to a hospital.”
“What a pity, when I have the chance, not to use it.”
“What a pity, when you have the chance, to throw it away by knocking yourself up.”
“Surely four days can’t make any difference.”
“Then why not stop work now and take a rest?”
It was plain to see these two would never agree, and so the time went on until the date of the examination arrived.
The night before the two friends met in George’s room. George was in low spirits, nervous and fretful. It was plain to see his friend’s protest had come too late to be of much use, for he had grown more and more worn every day; and the additional hours spent in bed had only been a source of worry and vexation. Jim, on the other hand, was doing his best to keep up, not his own spirits only, but those of his friend. His chances of a second class were as momentous to him (though he would not admit it) as his friend’s of a first, and he too was experiencing, though in a less degree, that heart-sinking which so often characterises the eve of an examination.
“You are not going to work to-night?” said he to my master.
“I think I must,” said George, wearily, and putting his hand to his forehead.
“It can’t be any earthly good now,” said Jim, “so let’s forget all about it for a bit and talk of something else.”