CHAPTER VIII
STEPHEN'S CHAPTER
I
No knight--the hero of any chronicle--ever went forward to his battle with
a braver heart than did Peter now in his desperate adventure against the
world. His morbidity, his introspection, his irritation with Stephen's
simplicities fled from him... he was gay, filled with the glamour of
showing what one could do... he did not doubt but that a fortnight would
see him in a magnificent position. And then--the fortnight passed and he
and Stephen had still their positions to discover--the money moreover was
almost at an end... another fortnight would behold them penniless.
It was absurd--it was monstrous, incredible. Life was not like that--Peter
bit his lip and set out again. Editors had not, on most occasions,
vouchsafed him even an interview. Then had come no answer to the four
halfpenny wrappers. The world, like a wall of shining steel, closed him in
with impenetrable silence.
It was absurd--it was monstrous. Peter fought desperately, as a bird beats
with its wings on the bars of its cage. They were having the worst of luck.
On several occasions he had been just too late and some one had got the
position before him. Stephen too found that the places where he had worked
before had now no job for him. "It was the worst time in the world... a
month ago now or possibly in a month's time.
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