conscience speech. Magnificent. Why it's the chance of his life." ...
And then for a time the voices and the faces seemed to pass away and die
out. I had dropped my paper, and as I stooped to pick it up the voices
returned.

--"Granger ... Etchingham Granger.... Sister is going to marry
Gurnard."

I got on to my hands and knees to pick up the paper, of course. What I
did not understand was where the water came from. Otherwise it was
pretty clear. Somebody seemed to be in a fit. No, he wasn't drunk; look
at his teeth. What did they want to look at his teeth for; was he a
horse?

* * * * *

It must have been I that was in the fit. There were a lot of men round
me, the front row on their knees--holding me, some of them. A man in a
red coat and plush breeches--a waiter--was holding a glass of water;
another had a small bottle. They were talking about me under their
breaths. At one end of the horseshoe someone said:

"He's the man who...." Then he caught my eye. He lowered his voice, and
the abominable whisper ran round among the heads. It was easy to guess:
"the man who was got at." I was to be that for the rest of my life. I
was to be famous at last. There came the desire to be out of it.

I struggled to my feet.

Someone said: "Feel better now?" I answered: "I--oh, I've got to go and