Read Speak Its Name: A Trilogy for Free Online

guess the reason behind it. It was all a bloody mess and if he had to be at hall then perhaps the best he could do was to avoid his friend entirely.
    When the time came he dressed for dinner and reluctantly wandered over to hall, where the Warden of Cranmer was preparing to speak. Doctor Phillip De Banzie was a handsome man, erect, silver haired and with a patrician air. His students admired and feared him in equal measure, as did the members of his Senior Common Room. He began each term by addressing the entire college after dinner, and the theme, whatever its nominal title, always veered in the direction of sacrifice. The recent events in Europe had added enormously to his scope for elaborating on this. He had good right: he’d lost a nephew at Ypres and a young cousin a mile further along the line. For him the loss of the flower of English manhood was a real and present tragedy.
    Hugo and Edward sat side by side, not intentionally, their having ended up among a crowd of Hugo’s friends who had swept them into hall and given them no choice of seat. They listened intently to the head of their college, even though they had heard much the same stuff before.
    De Banzie mentioned those who had sacrificed their social life in the pursuit of pure academic excellence, giving up the chance of wife and family so they could make great strides in medical or scientific research that would benefit many people . The Warden then turned to men who had given their lives in many a conflict down the years so that England could remain free and unsullied from the foreign touch. Cranmer men have always done their duty—they sailed with Collingwood’s squadron into the French line at Trafalgar one hundred and twenty years ago and they were trodden into the mud of Picardy within the last few.
    Suddenly a new theme emerged, one that Hugo had heard in his first year but that first year students like Edward had yet to encounter. It concerned the sacrifice of desire and self-will, the sublimation of the cravings of the flesh in order to allow for the perfection of study or the living of a perfect life. Of course, the main target of these barbed words was the small number of undergraduates who were heavy drinkers or clients of the painted ladies of Oxford and who were on a final warning as to their conduct. But Hugo felt them pierce him to the soul, as if De Banzie had a telescope which could peer into the heart of a man and pinpoint all the sinful inclinations.
    He sneaked a sidelong glance at Edward, but the man’s face told nothing. Perhaps he felt the words as keenly as Hugo did but could hide his emotions more successfully. Perhaps the only thing they meant to him was that he mustn’t overindulge in port or loose women if he wished to graduate with a shining first. Hugo couldn’t even begin to guess which of his guesses was nearer the truth.
    The speech ended, the listeners all applauded, and the fellows of the college took their leave to enjoy port and fruit in their common room. Edward turned, a hopeful look on his handsome face. “Will you take a glass of port with me, Hugo? I can’t offer you sweetmeats such as our betters no doubt will be enjoying,” there was an unfamiliar air of light heartedness in the man’s voice, “but I think the vintage is acceptable. Doctor De Banzie would have been proud of the sacrifices I made to obtain it.”
    Hugo stammered, for once entirely uncertain in front of his peers. It should have been the easiest thing to say either yes or no , the sort of social decision that was taken every day, but now he was paralyzed by his guilt. His desperate longing to see Edward again that had eaten at him all the holidays and been communicated in every line of his letters was counteracted by the harsh words the Warden had spoken— set not your desires above the demands of your college— and the lingering disgust he felt at his own nature.
    One of his more hearty rowing friends took the decision out of his hands,