but very difficult； slouched out to the front。 She went on with
the lesson； aware that Williams was making faces at Wright； and
that Wright was grinning behind her。 She was afraid。 She turned
to the map again。 And she was afraid。
〃Please； miss； Williams〃 came a sharp cry； and
a boy on the back row was standing up； with drawn； pained brows；
half a mocking grin on his pain； half real resentment against
Williams……〃Please； miss； he's nipped me；〃……and he
rubbed his leg ruefully。
〃e in front； Williams；〃 she said。
The rat…like boy sat with his pale smile and did not
move。
〃e in front；〃 she repeated； definite now。
〃I shan't；〃 he cried； snarling； rat…like； grinning。 Something
went click in Ursula's soul。 Her face and eyes set； she went
through the class straight。 The boy cowered before her
glowering； fixed eyes。 But she advanced on him； seized him by
the arm； and dragged him from his seat。 He clung to the form。 It
was the battle between him and her。 Her instinct had suddenly
bee calm and quick。 She jerked him from his grip； and dragged
him； struggling and kicking； to the front。 He kicked her several
times； and clung to the forms as he passed； but she went on。 The
class was on its feet in excitement。 She saw it； and made no
move。
She knew if she let go the boy he would dash to the door。
Already he had run home once out of her class。 So she snatched
her cane from the desk； and brought it down on him。 He was
writhing and kicking。 She saw his face beneath her； white； with
eyes like the eyes of a fish； stony； yet full of hate and
horrible fear。 And she loathed him； the hideous writhing thing
that was nearly too much for her。 In horror lest he should
overe her； and yet at the heart quite calm； she brought down
the cane again and again； whilst he struggled making
inarticulate noises； and lunging vicious kicks at her。 With one
hand she managed to hold him； and now and then the cane came
down on him。 He writhed； like a mad thing。 But the pain of the
strokes cut through his writhing； vicious； coward's courage； bit
deeper； till at last； with a long whimper that became a yell； he
went limp。 She let him go； and he rushed at her； his teeth and
eyes glinting。 There was a second of agonized terror in her
heart： he was a beast thing。 Then she caught him； and the cane
came down on him。 A few times； madly； in a frenzy； he lunged and
writhed； to kick her。 But again the cane broke him； he sank with
a howling yell on the floor； and like a beaten beast lay there
yelling。
Mr。 Harby had rushed up towards the end of this
performance。
〃What's the matter？〃 he roared。
Ursula felt as if something were going to break in her。
〃I've thrashed him；〃 she said； her breast heaving； forcing
out the words on the last breath。 The headmaster stood choked
with rage； helpless。 She looked at the writhing； howling figure
on the floor。
〃Get up；〃 she said。 The thing writhed away from her。 She took
a step forward。 She had realized the presence of the headmaster
for one second； and then she was oblivious of it again。
〃Get up；〃 she said。 And with a little dart the boy was on his
feet。 His yelling dropped to a mad blubber。 He had been in a
frenzy。
〃Go and stand by the radiator；〃 she said。
As if mechanically； blubbering； he went。
The headmaster stood robbed of movement or speech。 His face
was yellow； his hands twitched convulsively。 But Ursula stood
stiff not far from him。 Nothing could touch her now： she was
beyond Mr。 Harby。 She was as if violated to death。
The headmaster muttered something； turned； and went down the
room； whence； from the far end； he was heard roaring in a mad
rage at his own class。
The boy blubbered wildly by the radiator。 Ursula looked at
the class。 There were fifty pale； still faces watching her； a
hundred round eyes fixed on her in an attentive； expressionless
stare。
〃Give out the history readers；〃 she said to the monitors。
There was dead silence。 As she stood there； she could hear
again the ticking of the clock； and the chock of piles of books
taken out of the low cupboard。 Then came the faint flap of books
on the desks。 The children passed in silence； their hands
working in unison。 They were no longer a pack； but each one
separated into a silent； closed thing。
〃Take page 125； and read that chapter；〃 said Ursula。
There was a click of many books opened。 The children found
the page； and bent their heads obediently to read。 And they
read； mechanically。
Ursula； who was trembling violently； went and sat in her high
chair。 The blubbering of the boy continued。 The strident voice
of Mr。 Brunt； the roar of Mr。 Harby； came muffled through the
glass partition。 And now and then a pair of eyes rose from the
reading…book； rested on her a moment； watchful； as if
calculating impersonally； then sank again。
She sat still without moving； her eyes watching the class；
unseeing。 She was quite still； and weak。 She felt that she could
not raise her hand from the desk。 If she sat there for ever； she
felt she could not move again； nor utter a mand。 It was a
quarter…past four。 She almost dreaded the closing of the school；
when she would be alone。
The class began to recover its ease； the tension relaxed。
Williams was still crying。 Mr。 Brunt was giving orders for the
closing of the lesson。 Ursula got down。
〃Take your place； Williams；〃 she said。
He dragged his feet across the room； wiping his face on his
sleeve。 As he sat down； he glanced at her furtively； his eyes
still redder。 Now he looked like some beaten rat。
At last the children were gone。 Mr。 Harby trod by heavily；
without looking her way； or speaking。 Mr。 Brunt hesitated as she
was locking her cupboard。
〃If you settle Clarke and Letts in the same way； Miss
Brangwen； you'll be all right；〃 he said； his blue eyes glancing
down in a strange fellowship； his long nose pointing at her。
〃Shall I？〃 she laughed nervously。 She did not want anybody to
talk to her。
As she went along the street； clattering on the granite
pavement； she was aware of boys dodging behind her。 Something
struck her hand that was carrying her bag； bruising her。 As it
rolled away she saw that it was a potato。 Her hand was hurt； but
she gave no sign。 Soon she would take the tram。
She was afraid； and strange。 It was to her quite strange and
ugly； like some dream where she was degraded。 She would have
died rather than admit it to anybody。 She could not look at her
swollen hand。 Something had broken in her； she had passed a
crisis。 Williams was beaten； but at a cost。
Feeling too much upset to go home； she rode a little farther
into the town； and got down from the tram at a small tea…shop。
There； in the dark little place behind the shop； she drank her
tea and ate bread…and…butter。 She did not taste anything。 The
taking of tea was just a mechanical action； to cover over her
existence。 There she sat in the dark； obscure little place；
without knowing。 Only unconsciously she nursed the back of her
hand； which was bruised。
When finally she took her way home； it was sunset red across
the west。 She did not know why she was going home。 There was
nothing for her there。 She had； true； only to pretend to be
normal。 There was nobody she could speak to； nowhere to go for
escape。 But she must keep on； under this red sunset； alone；
knowing the horror in humanity； that would destroy her； and with
which she was at war。 Yet it had to be so。
In the morning again she must go to school。 She got up and
went without murmuring even to herself。 She was in the hands of
some bigger； stronger； coarser will。
School was fairly quiet。 But she could feel the class
watching her； ready to spring on her。 Her instinct was aware of
the class instinct to catch her if she were weak。 But she kept
cold and was guarded。
Williams was absent from school。 In the middle of the morning
there was a knock at the door： someone wanted the headmaster。
Mr。 Harby went out； heavily； angrily； nervously。 He was afraid
of irate parents。 After a moment in the passage； he came again
into school。
〃Sturgess；〃 he called to one of his larger boys。 〃Stand in
front of the class and write down the name of anyone who speaks。
Will you e this way； Miss Brangwen。〃
He seemed vindictively to seize upon her。
Ursula followed him； and found in the lobby a thin woman with
a whitish skin； not ill…dressed in a grey costume and a purple
hat。
〃I called about Vernon；〃 said the woman； speaking in a
refined accent。 There was about the woman altogether an
appearance of refinement and of cleanliness； curiously
contradicted by her half beggar's deportment； and a sense of her
being unpleasant to touch； like something going bad inside。 She
was neither a lady nor an ordinary working man's wife； but a
creature separate from society。 By her dress she was not
poor。
Ursula knew at once that she was Williams' mother； and that
he was Vernon。 She remembered that he was always clean； and
well…dressed； in a sailor suit。 And he had this same peculiar；
half transparent unwholesomeness； rather like a corpse。
〃I wasn't able to send him to school to…day；〃 continued the
woman； with a false grace of manner。 〃He came home last night
so ill……he was