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minutes to spare he walked in. It was a collection of patho-
logical specimens. Presently a boy of about eighteen came
up to him.
‘I say, are you first year?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ answered Philip.
‘Where’s the lecture room, d’you know? It’s getting on
for eleven.’
‘We’d better try to find it.’
They walked out of the museum into a long, dark corri-
dor, with the walls painted in two shades of red, and other
youths walking along suggested the way to them. They came
to a door marked Anatomy Theatre. Philip found that there
were a good many people already there. The seats were ar-
ranged in tiers, and just as Philip entered an attendant came
in, put a glass of water on the table in the well of the lecture-
room and then brought in a pelvis and two thigh-bones,
right and left. More men entered and took their seats and
by eleven the theatre was fairly full. There were about sixty
students. For the most part they were a good deal younger
than Philip, smooth-faced boys of eighteen, but there were a
few who were older than he: he noticed one tall man, with a
fierce red moustache, who might have been thirty; another
little fellow with black hair, only a year or two younger; and
there was one man with spectacles and a beard which was
quite gray.
The lecturer came in, Mr. Cameron, a handsome man
with white hair and clean-cut features. He called out the
long list of names. Then he made a little speech. He spoke
in a pleasant voice, with well-chosen words, and he seemed