"Well, what if I am?" he then returned. His voice was extraordinarily harsh, and he came forward a step that brought his face close to Mr. Wriford's and stared more threateningly than before. His eyes were dull and heavily bloodshot, and there went with the sucking at his cheeks a nervous agitation that seemed to possess his neck and all his joints. "What if I am?" he demanded again, and his words discharged a reek communicative of the fact that, whoever he was, abstinence from alcohol was not among his moral principles. "By any chance," said Mr. Wriford, "do you happen to want an assistant-master?" "I don't want you." "I thought you might want temporary assistance." He was stared at a moment from the clouded eyes. Then, in another volume of the fierce breath, "Well, you thought wrong!" he was told. "Now!" "Very well," said Mr. Wriford and turned away. He went a dozen paces towards the road. There seized him as he turned and as he walked away a sudden realisation of his case, a sudden panic at his plight, a sudden desperation to cling on to what he believed offered here. He must find something to do. There could be no concealment, no peace for him while he wandered outcast and penniless. That way lay what most he feared. He would be found wandering or found collapsed, and questions would be asked him and explanations demanded of him. That terrified him. He could not face that. Whatever else happened he must be left alone. He must find something to do that would hide him--give him occupation enough to earn him food and shelter and leave him to himself to think. He turned and went back desperately. The man he believed to be Mr. Pennyquick was standing staring after him and waited staring as he came on. "Look here," said Mr. Wriford desperately. "Look here, Mr. Pennyquick. I know you think it strange my coming to you like this. But I heard, I heard in the town, that you wanted an assistant-master. If you don't--" "I've told you," said Mr. Pennyquick, admitting the personality by not denying it, "I've told you I don't want you. Now!" "If you don't," said Mr. Wriford, unheeding the rebuff, more desperate by reason of it, "if you don't, there's an end of it. But if you want temporary help--temporary, a day, or a week--I can do it for you." "Do what?" demanded Mr. Penny quick. "I can teach," said Mr. Wriford. There was sign of relenting in Mr. Pennyquick's question, and Mr. Wriford took it up eagerly. "I can teach," he repeated. "What can you teach?" "I can teach all the ordinary subjects." "I'm getting a University man," said Mr. Pennyquick. "Temporarily," Mr. Wriford urged. As every passage of their conversation brought him nearer this sudden chance or threw him further from it, his panic at its failure, and what must happen, then increased desperately. "Temporarily," he urged. "I've had a public-school education." "Yes, you look it!" said Mr. Pennyquick, and laughed.