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slid down; and they returned to the teacher's room。 It
was queer to feel that one ought to alter one's personality。 She
was nobody; there was no reality in herself; the reality was all
outside of her; and she must apply herself to it。
Mr。 Harby was in the teachers' room; standing before a big;
open cupboard; in which Ursula could see piles of pink
blotting…paper; heaps of shiny new books; boxes of chalk; and
bottles of coloured inks。 It looked a treasure store。
The schoolmaster was a short; sturdy man; with a fine head;
and a heavy jowl。 Nevertheless he was good…looking; with his
shapely brows and nose; and his great; hanging moustache。 He
seemed absorbed in his work; and took no notice of Ursula's
entry。 There was something insulting in the way he could be so
actively unaware of another person; so occupied。
When he had a moment of absence; he looked up from the table
and said good…morning to Ursula。 There was a pleasant light in
his brown eyes。 He seemed very manly and incontrovertible; like
something she wanted to push over。
〃You had a wet walk;〃 he said to Ursula。
〃Oh; I don't mind; I'm used to it;〃 she replied; with a
nervous little laugh。
But already he was not listening。 Her words sounded
ridiculous and babbling。 He was taking no notice of her。
〃You will sign your name here;〃 he said to her; as if she
were some child……〃and the time when you e and go。〃
Ursula signed her name in the time book and stood back。 No
one took any further notice of her。 She beat her brains for
something to say; but in vain。
〃I'd let them in now;〃 said Mr。 Harby to the thin man; who
was ver