But when he awoke next morning it was to the clanging of a bell, and the
first thing his eyes saw was the green curtain of his cubicle.



XII


As time went on Philip's deformity ceased to interest. It was accepted
like one boy's red hair and another's unreasonable corpulence. But
meanwhile he had grown horribly sensitive. He never ran if he could help
it, because he knew it made his limp more conspicuous, and he adopted a
peculiar walk. He stood still as much as he could, with his club-foot
behind the other, so that it should not attract notice, and he was
constantly on the look out for any reference to it. Because he could not
join in the games which other boys played, their life remained strange to
him; he only interested himself from the outside in their doings; and it
seemed to him that there was a barrier between them and him. Sometimes
they seemed to think that it was his fault if he could not play football,
and he was unable to make them understand. He was left a good deal to
himself. He had been inclined to talkativeness, but gradually he became
silent. He began to think of the difference between himself and others.

The biggest boy in his dormitory, Singer, took a dislike to him, and
Philip, small for his age, had to put up with a good deal of hard
treatment. About half-way through the term a mania ran through the school
for a game called Nibs. It was a game for two, played on a table or a form
with steel pens. You had to push your nib with the finger-nail so as to
get the point of it over your opponent's, while he manoeuvred to prevent