“By this time I loved Clara Blow almost as I loved my aunts. All through that summer term I devoted so much thought to her happiness, I came out at the end only seventh instead of first in class. I cannot say I didn’t enjoy worrying about Clara. I did. To do so gave me a feeling of adult importance; doubled the interest of my already double life, enlarged my secret rôle of little peacemaker to include that of little match-maker also. Yet what could I do? (I was always eager to do something: abou...t anything. When the kitchen-chimney caught fire I had to be retrieved by Frederick from the local fire-station—Cook having successfully employed a pail of water. We might nonetheless have been burnt to cinders. When a telegram came for my father, and there was no one else at home, I took a cab to his chambers: I happened to interrupt an important conference, and the telegram merely cancelled a dinner-engagement. It might have called him to a parent’s death-bed. I never got credit for my good intentions, but I never learnt.) I never learnt, and I loved Clara Blow; and Wednesday after Wednesday, together we revolved plans.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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