After an hour the first pause to cool her forehead with a stick of frozen Eau de Cologne and to sip some water. Behind, poor Mabel’s dry little cough and sniff went on. The head bowed low over her writing looked as if it could never raise itself again. Girls were wriggling and biting their pens. Somewhere the tooth-tapper was playing her dreary tune. The Cow looked up, shed a peaceful smile around her and continued to write, with deliberation, a little impeded by her bosom. Another hour fled. The trouble was having too much to say, rather than too little. The room was rigid, dark with concentration now. There came an appalling confusion of haste and noise, and a girl rose and ran from the room, supported by the invigilator. The handkerchief she held to her nose was stained sickeningly with scarlet. She returned in a little while, pallid and tearful, resumed her seat, bowed herself once more over the paper. Three hours. It was over. You could not remember what you had written; but you had never felt more firm and sure of mind. Three hours nearer to life. Into the street once more, beneath the noon sun’s merciless down-beating. But now its rays seemed feeble: their warmth scarcely penetrated chilled hands and feet, or shivering, aching back. A troop of undergraduates passed on the way from their examination room. They looked amused and exhilarated. They stuffed their papers into their pockets, lit pipes, straightened their shoulders and went cheerfully to lunch. The girls crept out in twos and threes, earnestly talking, comparing the white slips they carried. ‘Did you do this one?’ ‘What did you put for that?’ ‘Oh, I say! Will they take off marks do you think?’ ‘It was a beast.’ ‘Oh, it might have been worse.’ Girls really should be trained to be less obviously female students. It only needed a little discipline. There was Mabel to be looked after. She was grateful, passive: she drank much coffee but refused food. She broke the heavy silence once to say with a quiet smile: ‘Of course I see now I shan’t pass--It seems a pity, after all that work--My memory is practically gone----’ Back to the vault now for another three hours. Suddenly round the corner came a slender, dark, sallow boy. He walked with an idle grace, leaning slightly forward. His faint likeness to Roddy made the heart leap; and his expression was dejected and obstinate, just as Roddy’s would be if he were forced to spend an afternoon scribbling infernal rubbish. Judith paused at the entrance of the vault and looked back. His eyes were eagerly fixed on her: and she smiled at him. He was delighted. His funny boy face lost its heaviness and broke up with intimate twinklings; and flashed a shyly daring inquiry at her before he vanished round the corner. It was like a message from Roddy, sent forward to meet her from the new life, to say: ‘Remember I am coming.’