Miss Scatcherd's Silence

The play hour in the evening, i thought, the pleasantest fraction of the day. At lowwood, the bit of bread, the draught of coffee swallowed at five o'clock had revived vitality, if it had not satisfied hunger. On the evening of the day on which i had seen miss scatcherd flog her pupil burns, i wandered as usual among the forms and tables and laughing groups,. without a companion, yet not feeling lonely. When i passed the windows, i now and then lifted a blind and looked out. It snowed fast. Adrift was already forming against the lower panes.

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