And as the moment of supreme agony drew close, this
whispering became continuous: "In making my first appearance before
this honor'ble membership I feel constrained to say in making my first
appearance before this honor'ble membership I feel constrained to say in
making my first appearance before this honor'ble mem--"
...It had come. The chairman announced the subject of the fourth
freshman twelve-minute debate; and Dora Yocum, hitherto unperceived
by Ramsey, rose and went forward to one of the small desks in the open
space, where she stood composedly, a slim, pretty figure in white.
Members in Ramsey's neighbourhood were aware of a brief and hushed
commotion, and of Colburn's fierce whisper, "You can't! You get up
there!" And the blanched Ramsey came forth and placed himself at the
other desk.
He stood before the silent populace of that morgue, and it seemed to him
that his features had forgotten that he was supposed to be their owner
and in control of them; he felt that they were slipping all over his
face, regardless of his wishes.
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