Here I halted and decided to turn.

I was warm from the walk, and returned slowly and very downcast. I met two
hay-carts. The drivers were lying flat upon the top of their loads, and
sang. Both were bare-headed, and both had round, care-free faces. I passed
them and thought to myself that they were sure to accost me, sure to fling
some taunt or other at me, play me some trick; and as I got near enough,
one of them called out and asked what I had under my arm?

"A blanket!"

"What o'clock is it?" he asked then.

"I don't know rightly; about three, I think!"
Whereupon they both laughed and drove on. I felt at the same moment the
lash of a whip curl round one of my ears, and my hat was jerked off. They
couldn't let me pass without playing me a trick. I raised my hand to my
head more or less confusedly, picked my hat out of the ditch, and
continued on my way. Down at St. Han's Hill I met a man who told me it was
past four. Past four! already past four! I mended my pace, nearly ran down
to the town, turned off towards the news office. Perhaps the editor had
been there hours ago, and had left the office by now. I ran, jostled
against folk, stumbled, knocked against cars, left everybody behind me,
competed with the very horses, struggled like a madman to arrive there in
time. I wrenched through the door, took the stairs in four bounds, and
knocked.

No answer.

"He has left, he has left," I think. I try the door which is open, knock