"Of course; I am at your service." He spent several hours of that
afternoon and of succeeding days in coaching me in my various
subjects.
"I believe many questions in English literature will be centered
in the route of Childe Harold," he told me. "We must get an atlas
at once."
I hastened to the home of my Uncle Sarada and borrowed an atlas.
Romesh marked the European map at the places visited by Byron's
romantic traveler.
A few classmates had gathered around to listen to the tutoring.
"Romesh is advising you wrongly," one of them commented to me at
the end of a session. "Usually only fifty per cent of the questions
are about the books; the other half will involve the authors'
lives."
When I sat for the examination in English literature the following
day, my first glance at the questions caused tears of gratitude
to pour forth, wetting my paper. The classroom monitor came to my
desk and made a sympathetic inquiry.
"My guru foretold that Romesh would help me," I explained. "Look;
the very questions dictated to me by Romesh are here on the examination
sheet! Fortunately for me, there are very few questions this year
on English authors, whose lives are wrapped in deep mystery so far
as I am concerned!"
My boardinghouse was in an uproar when I returned. The boys who
had been ridiculing Romesh's method of coaching looked at me in
awe, almost deafening me with congratulations. During the week of
the examinations, I spent many hours with Romesh, who formulated
questions that he thought were likely to be set by the professors.
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