Concluding by Henry Green

Author:Henry Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780811227018
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2017-09-25T00:00:00+00:00

The staff, as well as the students, were allowed half an hour in which to be down for tea today, nevertheless it was unprecedented for Miss Edge to be the ten minutes late she was, and still more so for her to be faced with the fact that many of her colleagues could be even more unpunctual than herself. There was no sign of Marchbanks, which was, perhaps, to be expected after the ridiculous misunderstanding that had been uncovered about not calling the doctor, but Miss Baker was absent, and, most significant of all, Sebastian Birt had not put in an appearance, which was inexcusable after what had occurred, and, for that matter, was still going on, perhaps.

Because they still had no news of Mary.

Edge literally itched to get to grips with Merode in spite of the rules and regulations, but now Dr Bodle had seen her at last, he’d forbidden even the simplest questioning, an injunction which Miss Edge would have been inclined to ignore, or forget, only Baker rather lost her head, had grown quite insistent. The thought of a girl laid by in full possession of her faculties, with a key to the whole mystery, protected even from points her own mother should put by the too hasty opinion of this fool of a medico, angered Miss Edge so much, now she had drunk some tea and felt restored, enraged her so deeply that, from the dais, she turned another terrible look on her charges, and several were caught in the middle of huge yawns; the soft, brilliant wetness of their pink mouths, and shining pearly teeth, being struck at her glance to pure enchantment, under wide, astonished eyes.

“Can Dakers and I help with the flowers afterwards, ma’am?” Winstanley asked.

“Thank you. I really feel I can manage,” Miss Edge answered. She glared around. There was one good thing, she told herself, the girls were no longer at their whispers, there were none of those stares as at luncheon. But, on the other hand, the atmosphere was lax. They sat over tea as if washed out.

Next she examined her pile of blooms. Was it imagination, or had these in some way settled? But surely not by their own weight?

How absurd that, at lunch, she had had this feeling the child was underneath.

And certainly the flowers were fading.

She took another glance at the students. No, they showed small interest in High Table. They entered by dribs and drabs, lazily, slack. Miss Edge clenched her thin fists.

She sent a frightful look at the gigantic, repeating gramophone, dumb in a corner.

“Has it been overhauled?” she asked at large.

“What is that, ma’am?” Winstanley questioned.

“Why, the music for our Ball of course,” Edge replied. “We do not want to be suspended, so to speak, by a breakdown.”

“Oh, the old thing’s in a good mood now, ma’am. We tried the records as late as Tuesday.”

“A mood, Winstanley? Will you arrange for the car to go at once over to Bradhampton to pick up Edwards, that is his name, Edwards? Then he can give the mechanism a thorough doing.

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