The Clean HeartHutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Science
The Clean Heart
Hutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Authors -- Fiction; Happiness -- Fiction
"English subjects," cried Mr. Wriford. "Latin, mathematics. I can
do it if you want it."
Mr. Pennyquick glanced over his shoulder at his dejected-looking
boys, then stared back again at Mr. Wriford and began to speak with
more consideration and less fierceness. "I'm not saying," said Mr.
Pennyquick, "that I don't want temmo--temmer--PLAY UP! Tem-po-rary
assistance. I do. I'm very ill. I'm shaken all to bits. I ought
to be in bed. What I'm saying is I don't want you. I don't know
anything about you. I've got the reputation of my school to
consider. That's what I'm saying to you."
Dizziness began to overtake Mr. Wriford--the field to rock in long
swells, Mr. Pennyquick by turns to recede and advance, swell and
diminish. He felt himself upon the verge of breaking down, wringing
his hands in his extremity and staggering away. But where? Where?
"Temporarily," he pleaded. "Temporarily."
"You might drink for all I know," said Mr. Pennyquick, pronouncing
this possibility as if consumed with an unnatural horror of it.
"I don't drink."
"How do I know that?"
Mr. Wriford cried frantically: "It's only temporarily! If I drink,
if I'm not suitable, you can stop it in a moment."
"No notice?" said Mr. Pennyquick.
"No--no notice. Temporarily--it's only temporarily. That'll be
understood."
"Well, if no notice is understood I'll take the risk--for a week,
while I'm getting a man. I'll give you fifteen shillings. No, I
won't. I'll give you twelve. I'll give you twelve shillings, and if
I have to sack you before the week's out--well, you just go. That's
understood?"
"Thank you," Mr. Wriford said. The field was spinning now. He could
think of nothing else to say. "Thank you."
"Be here at nine to-morrow," said Mr. Pennyquick. "Just before
nine," and he turned away and shouted to his boys: "Stop now! Come
in now!"
"But--" said Mr. Wriford. "But--but--" He was trying for words to
frame his difficulty. "But--do I live in?"
"Live in!" cried Mr. Pennyquick. "I'm taking risks enough having you
at all! Live in! Stop now. Come in now!" and he walked away
towards the house.
CHAPTER II
IN A PARLOUR
I
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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