But what hope was there when the nearer of them was twelve desks away?
For two hours a solemn silence reigned in that examination hall, broken only by the scratching of pens and the secret sighs of one and another of the victims.

The pictures on the walls, as they looked down, caught the eye of many a wistful upturned face, and marked the devouring of many a penholder, and the tearing of many a hair.
In vain Coote searched his nails from thumb to little finger.

No question fitted to his painfully collected answers.

Edward the Fifth was ignored, the sex of "Amnis" was not even hinted at, and "1476" never once came to his rescue.

And yet, he reminded himself over and over again, he and Heathcote had said their Latin syntax to Mr Ashford only the day before without a mistake.
"Cease writing," said the Doctor, as the clock struck two, "and the boys at desks 1 to 10 come up here." This was the signal for the cruellest of all that day's horrors.