Explore "Good-bye, Mr. Chips" by James Hilton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
And so it stood, a warm and vivid patch in his life, casting a radiance that glowed in a thousand recollections. Twilight at Mrs. Wickett's, when the School bell clanged for call-over, brought them back to him in a cloud--Katherine scampering along the stone corridors, laughing beside him at some "howler" in an essay he was marking, taking the cello part in a Mozart trio for the School concert, her creamy arm sweeping over the brown sheen of the instrument. She had been a good player and a fine musician. And Katherine furred and muffed for the December house matches, Katherine at the Garden Party that followed Speech Day Prize- giving, Katherine tendering her advice in any little problem that arose. Good advice, too--which he did not always take, but which always influenced him.
-"Chips, dear, I'd let them off if I were you. After all, it's nothing very serious."