It
also diverted them from their usual round-eyed, breathless contemplation
of himself--a regular morning inspection which generally embraced every
detail of his dress and appearance, and made every change or deviation
the subject of whispered comment or stony astonishment. He knew that
they knew him more thoroughly than he did himself, and shrank from the
intuitive vision of these small clairvoyants.
"Well?" said the master gravely.
There was the usual interval of bashful hesitation, verging on nervous
hilarity or hypocritical attention. For the last six months this
question by the master had been invariably received each morning as a
veiled pleasantry which might lead to baleful information or conceal
some query out of the dreadful books before him. Yet this very element
of danger had its fascinations. Johnny Filgee, a small boy, blushed
violently, and, without getting up, began hurriedly in a high key, "Tige
ith got," and then suddenly subsided into a whisper.
"Speak up, Johnny," said the master encouragingly.
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