But why couldn't he go into a dairy and appease his hunger?
Yes, why not? The very thought of it made him shudder.
After some little reflection he went down to the harbour, intending to
cross over to the Deer Park. He was bound to find acquaintances there
from whom he could borrow money (hateful thought!) for his dinner. And
if so, he would dine at "Hazelmount," the best restaurant.
The steamer was so crowded that schoolmaster Blom had to stand close
to the engine; the heat at his back was intolerable; his morning coat
was being covered with grease spots, while he stood, with his gaze
rivetted on the untidy head of a servant girl and endured the rancid
smell of the hair-oil. But he did not see a single face he knew.
When he entered the restaurant in the Deer Park, he squared his
shoulders and tried to look as distinguished as possible.
The space before the restaurant was like the auditorium of a theatre
and seemed to serve the same purpose: that is to say, it was a place
where one met one's friends and showed off. The verandah was occupied
by officers, blue in the face with eating and drinking; with them were
representatives of the foreign Powers, grown old and grey in their
strenuous efforts to protect fellow-countrymen who had got mixed up
with sailors and fishermen in drunken brawls, or assist at Gala
performances, christenings, weddings and funerals.
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