THE ESSENTIALS OF ARISTOCRACY
HE knew they were to be enemies. Just why he could never have said, but he felt it in his bones when their eyes first met. Each of the two boys seemed to recognise the silent and mysterious challenge of combative childhood.
The new boy's face was shiny from soap and hot water, and under his arm he carried his new slate and a crisp yellow-covered First Book. The doctor had told his Aunt Martha that the children ought to be kept out of the way for the next few weeks. His Aunt Martha had cruelly suggested school for him.
It was with a sinking heart that he felt himself led relentlessly up the urchin-lined walk of the new Ward school.
"Hello, kid, whatcher name?" asked a
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