5/22/2023 0 Comments In memoriam alice winn"Yes," he said, patting his hair absentmindedly. "They've got rather more to say about Roseveare than about Cuthbert-Smith, haven't they?"Įllwood's guns turned back to hands. Gaunt took a long drag of his cigarette and folded up the paper. Just like every other Preshute student who had been killed so far in the War. Both boys, The Preshutian assured him, had died gallant deaths. As to Gaunt's own friend-and enemy-Cuthbert-Smith, a measly paragraph had sufficed to sum him up. The longest "In Memoriam" was for Clarence Roseveare, the older brother of one of Ellwood's friends. Gaunt, who had grown up summering in Munich, did not tend to join in these soldier games.īalancing The Preshutian on his knee as he turned the page, Gaunt finished reading the last "In Memoriam." He had known seven of the nine boys killed. "Bloody Fritz! Got him in the eye! Take that home to the Kaiser!" He fashioned his hands into guns and shot at the passers-by. It soothed him to see the school functioning without him, and to know that he was above it.Įllwood also liked to sit on the roof. He liked watching boys dipping in and out of Fletcher Hall to pilfer biscuits, prefects swanning across the grass in Court, the organ master coming out of Chapel. It was Gaunt, however, who truly loved the roof perch. He was always scrambling around places he shouldn't. Ellwood was a prefect, so his room that year was a splendid one, with a window that opened onto a strange outcrop of roof.
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