Sunday was his day without fear, and when he was on duty on Sunday afternoons, he drank a great deal. His last Sunday passed like a dream; he had no fear except the fear of the week to come. He was aware that he was to preside at the supper of the boarders. The half-dozen big boys who had been “sharing the party” thought he had forgotten. Edward laughed at this idea. The big boys shepherded him downstairs to the dining room; they linked their arms with his in facetious tenderness. It was absurd, Edward thought. His mind was quite clear and serene. He knew that he would have to say grace. The boys’ food was very bad—the boys told him so. How absurd to say grace over a bad meal. Indeed it was blasphemy. He would be honest. He would be witty. What a curious perspective of white faces along the tables. The boys spoiled the austerity of the perspective by wearing different-colored clothes. “Let us pray that dinner today will be better than it was yesterday.” (God does not mind a man being witty at His expense.) “O God, who daily turnest our bread into a stone——” Well, even if the Matron was looking at him, she could appreciate wit, couldn’t she? He laughed a little to give her a lead. Her hard white collar and cap seemed to heave like the ruff and crest of an affronted bird. Women had no sense of humor. And anyway it was _he_, not _she_, who was on duty. He could say what grace he liked. The matron was gone now. She had realised that she had no business there. The boys were all laughing. They were a broad-minded crew, these boys. Someone took him quite rudely by the arm. It was the headmaster. He looked drunk, Edward thought. So that was how the headmaster spent Sunday afternoons—and he a parson. He pulled Edward out of the room. It was outrageous that the headmaster should so interrupt Edward’s duties. After a short talk, during which the headmaster gave voice to some most insolent personalities, Edward realised quite suddenly that he himself was drunk. He wanted immediately to go away from the people who had noticed this humiliating fact. He wanted new faces around him, unreproachful faces. “I’m going,” said Edward; the chair span away from him unkindly as he rose. “After the way I’ve been treated——” “Please go tonight,” said the headmaster. Everything was going well. Soon he would be away from these people who only witnessed his moments of indignity. The boys would never triumph over him again now. He would be alone, travelling in search of Emily. People who did not know him would think, “Who is that thin eager young man with the far-off look in his eyes?”