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Updated: May 31, 2025
Prothero's door had been locked against the world, and he had appeared after a slight delay looking a little puffy and only apprehending who his visitor was after a resentful stare for the better part of a second. He might have been asleep, he might have been doing anything but the examination papers he appeared to be doing.
It was Prothero's wicked pictures that made him see the shrivelled absurdity of the vulgar theology. But it was Benham who stood between Prothero and that rather coarsely conceived epicureanism that seemed his logical destiny. Because Benham made it perfectly clear what he had thought and felt about this hat.
Very many metrical arrangements of the Psalms by non-Catholic authors exist in English. Most of these metrical efforts are very poor, unreliable in giving the sense, and awkward and ungainly in poetic forms. An interesting book is Prothero's Psalms in Human Life. The author was a Protestant, hence his numbering of the Psalms may at first sight be confusing,
It had been left there; its custodian was away upon some mysterious errand. Heaven knows why Trinity Hall exhibited the treasures of its crockery thus stained and deified in the Cambridge streets. But it did for Benham's and Prothero's undoing. Prothero saw the great wheel over which he was poised entangle itself with the little wheel of the barrow. "God!" he whispered, and craned, fascinated.
Between the head of the sofa and the fire-place is an arm-chair, also against the wall, Mr Prothero's favourite seat; and Minette's footstool is by the side of her mother, and at the feet of her grandfather. Netta's pale face is in shadow, but the large, bright black eyes beam upon Gladys, with preternatural lustre, and the raven hair shines against the white pillow that supports her head.
After the busy sunlit streets of Maytime Cambridge, Prothero's rooms in Trinity, their windows full of Gothic perspectives and light-soaked blue sky, seemed cool and quiet. A flavour of scholarship pervaded them a little blended with the flavour of innumerable breakfasts nearly but not completely forgotten.
Prothero's hiding-place was now as clearly exposed as though it were held in the circle of a spot-light, and at the success of the maneuver the great mob raised an applauding cheer. But the triumph was brief. In a minute the blazing lamps had been shattered by bullets, and once more, save for the fierce flashes from rifles and pistols, Sowell Street lay in darkness.
The conversation was interrupted by a loud knocking at the house door, and Farmer Prothero's voice was heard without, calling, 'Mother, mother, where are you? Here we are, all come! Netta flew to open the door, and was soon industriously kissing a lady and gentleman, who had just alighted from a little four-wheeled carriage, and were waiting, with her father, for admission.
And if Cambridge objects, teach Cambridge better manners." Prothero's face was suddenly transfigured with rage. "I tell you she won't come!" he said. "Billy!" said Benham, "you should make her!" "I can't." "If a man loves a woman he can make her do anything " "But I don't love her like that," said Prothero, shrill with anger. "I tell you I don't love her like that."
As Shanno was very busy and very dirty, Mrs Prothero, during her preparations in the kitchen, was at a loss to know who was to wait if anything was wanted. Gladys chanced to be there, and said modestly, 'If I could do, ma'am, I would soon make myself neat in Miss Prothero's gown; and if I might just take in the tray instead of you.
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