Page 98 - 1927 Hartridge

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Waiting for My Marks
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Page 84
Having screwed up my courage as far as possible, I venture from the protecting crowds of the study-hall out past the dangerous region of the office, dive into a dark hallway, and stumble up the stairs. Coming into the sunlight I blink and perceive the open door of the Algebra room. whence are issuing disconsolately a few belated comrades.
“ What did you get?” I inquire.
“ Flunked,” they reply dismally, and I shake in my boots as I approach
the sacred precincts of the Alathematics Department.
A pile of blue examination books meets my gaze and I wonder which
is mine. I watch another sufferer doing her best to withstand the chilling disappointment of a failure. The pencil sharpener, grinding harshly, dis­ turbs my unhappy reflections. The next inquirer receives a favorable verdict and comes out beaming. I feel encouraged, but another failure
darkens my dream of bliss. Two more victims emerge, one smiling, the other looking very sad. I enter quaking with fear. My knees knock
together. My hand shakes.
‘Ah, Theresa, you did better than I expected.”
A gleam of hope penetrates my gloom
“ Your mark was— ” Will she ever say it? The clock ticks. I hear
a laugh from below. How can people be merry? “ Your mark was eighty-
four.”
1 stagger, reel out into the hall, and drop on the steps, there to recline
and recover.
T. c. 30.