“May I go to Blackstable this afternoon, please, sir?” he asked.
“No,” said the headmaster briefly.
“I wanted to see my uncle about something very important.”
“Didn’t you hear me say no?”
Philip did not answer. He went out. He felt almost sick with humiliation, the humiliation of having to ask and the humiliation of the curt refusal. He hated the headmaster now. Philip writhed under that despotism which never vouchsafed a reason for the most tyrannous act. He was too angry to care what he did, and after dinner walked down to the station, by the back ways he knew so well, just in time to catch the train to Blackstable. He walked into the vicarage and found his uncle and aunt sitting in the dining-room.
“Hulloa, where have you sprung from?” said the Vicar.
It was very clear that he was not pleased to see him. He looked a little uneasy.
“I thought I’d come and see you about my leaving. I want to know what you mean by promising me one thing when I was here, and doing something different a week after.”
He was a little frightened at his own boldness, but he had made up his mind exactly what words to use, and, though his heart beat violently, he forced himself to say them.
“Have you got leave to come here this afternoon?”