Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 8.djvu/431

 as squares and oblongs of coarse, wet grass and sorrel. They looked absurdly small—dishonestly small. What could you expect? Of course the builders were having him, building too small, building all wrong, using bad materials! Old Kipps had told him a wrinkle or two. The builders were having him, young Walshingham was having him, everybody was having him! They were having him and laughing at him because they didn't respect him. They didn't respect him because he couldn't do things right. Who could respect him?

He was an outcast, he had no place in the society of mankind. He had had his chance in the world and turned his back on it. He had "behaved badly"—that was the phrase

Here a great house was presently to arise, a house to be paid for, a house neither he nor Ann could manage—with eleven bedrooms, and four disrespectful servants having them all the time!

How had it all happened exactly?

This was the end of his great fortune! What a chance he had had! If he had really carried out his first intentions and stuck to things, how much better everything might have been! If he had got a tutor—that had been in his mind originally—a special sort of tutor to show him everything right; a tutor for gentlemen of neglected education! If he had read more and attended better to what Coote had said!

Coote, who had just cut him!

Eleven bedrooms! What had possessed him? No one would ever come to see them, no one would ever have anything to do with them. Even his Aunt cut