When he
sat down, amid tempestuous applause, there was a hitch. According to the
official programme Sir Jehoshophat Dain was to have seconded the vote,
and Sir Jee was not there. All that remained of Sir Jee was his chair.
The Mayor of Hanbridge looked round about, trying swiftly to make up his
mind what was to be done, and Denry heard him whisper to another mayor
for advice.
"Shall I do it?" Denry whispered, and by at once rising relieved the
Mayor from the necessity of coming to a decision.
Impossible to say why Denry should have risen as he did, without any
warning. Ten seconds before, five seconds before, he himself had not the
dimmest idea that he was about to address the meeting. All that can be
said is that he was subject to these attacks of the unexpected.
Once on his legs he began to suffer, for he had never before been on his
legs on a platform, or even on a platform at all. He could see nothing
whatever except a cloud that had mysteriously and with frightful
suddenness filled the room. And through this cloud he could feel that
hundreds and hundreds of eyes were piercingly fixed upon him. A voice
was saying inside him--"What a fool you are! What a fool you are! I
always told you you were a fool!" And his heart was beating as it had
never beat, and his forehead was damp, his throat distressingly dry, and
one foot nervously tap-tapping on the floor.
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