

The third day of Tom Canty’s kingship came and went much as the others
had done, but there was a lifting of his cloud in one way--he felt
less uncomfortable than at first; he was getting a little used to his
circumstances and surroundings; his chains still galled, but not all the
time; he found that the presence and homage of the great afflicted and
embarrassed him less and less sharply with every hour that drifted over
his head.