the sermon, and rested long in a chair in the sacristy. He started to go
to London on the Monday morning, but had to return in the taxi, feeling
too ill to travel. Then followed days of acute pain, during which he no
doubt caught a severe chill. He could not sleep, and he could only
obtain relief by standing up. He wandered restlessly one night about the
corridors, very lightly clad, and even went out into the court. He stood
for two or three hours leaning on the mantelpiece of his room, with
Father Gorman sitting near him, and trying in vain to persuade him to
retire to bed.

When he was not suffering he was full of life, and even of gaiety. He
went one of these afternoons, at his own suggestion, to a cinema show
with one of the priests, but though he enjoyed it, and even laughed
heartily, he said later that it had exhausted him.

He wrote some letters, putting off many of his autumn and winter
engagements. But he grew worse; a specialist was called in, and, though
the diagnosis was entirely confirmed, it was found that pneumonia had
set in.




XVI

THE END


I had spent a long day in London at a business meeting, where we
discussed a complicated educational problem. I came away alone; I was