Again, I was once engulfed in a crevasse, hanging from the ice-
ledge with a portentous gulf below, and a glacier-stream roaring
in the darkness. I could get no hold for foot or hand, my
companions could not reach me or extract me; and as I sank into
unconsciousness, hearing my own expiring breath, I knew that I was
doomed; but I can only say, quite honestly and humbly, that I had
no fear at all, and only dimly wondered what arrangements would be
made at Eton, where I was then a master, to accommodate the boys of
my house and my pupils. It was not done by an effort, nor did I
brace myself to the situation: fear simply did not come near to me.
Once again I found myself confronted, not so long ago, with an
incredibly painful and distressing interview. That indeed did
oppress me with almost intolerable dread beforehand. I was to go to
a certain house in London, and there was just a chance that the
interview might not take place after all. As I drove there, I
suddenly found myself wondering whether the interview could REALLY
be going to take place--how often had I rehearsed it beforehand
with anguish--and then as suddenly became aware that I should in
some strange way be disappointed if it did not take place.
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