felt her way to the
schoolroom. The girls were gathering there ready for a walk. Some were
in the hall and Fraulein's voice was giving instructions: "Machen Sie
schnell, Miss Henderson," she called.

Fraulein had never before called to her like that. It had always been as
if she did not see her but assumed her ready to fall in with the general
movements.

Now it was Fraulein calling to her as she might do to Gertrude or
Solomon. There was no hurried whisper from Jimmie telling her to "fly
for her life."

"Ja, Fraulein," she cried gaily and blundered towards the basement
stairs. Mademoiselle was standing averted at the head of them; Miriam
glanced at her. Her face was red and swollen with crying.

The sight amazed Miriam. She considered the swollen suffusion under the
large black hat as she ran downstairs. She hoped Mademoiselle did not
see her glance.... Mademoiselle, standing there all disfigured and
blotchy about something... it was nothing... it couldn't be anything....
If anyone were dead she would not be standing there... it was just
some silly prim French quirk... her dignity... someone had been
"grossiere"... and there she stood in her black hat and black cotton
gloves.... Hurriedly putting on her hat and long lace scarf she decided
that she would not change her shoes. Somewhere out in the sunshine a
hurdy-gurdy piped out the air of "Dass du mich liebst das wusst ich."
She glanced at the frosted barred window through which the dim light
came into the dressing-room. The piping notes, out of tune, wrongly
emphasised, slurring one into the other, followed her across the dark
basement hall and came faintly to her as she went slowly upstairs. There
was no hurry. Everyone was talking busily in the hall, drowning the
sound of her footsteps. She had forgotten her gloves. She went back into
the cool grey musty rooms. A little crack in an upper pane shone like
a gold thread. The barrel-organ piped. As she stooped to gather up her
gloves from the floor she felt the cold stone firm and secure under her
hand. And the house stood up all round her with its rooms and the light
lying along stairways and passages, and outside the bright hot sunshine
and the roadways leading in all directions, out into Germany.

How could Fraulein possibly think she could afford to go to Norderney?
They would all go. Things would go on. She could not go there--nor back
to England. It was cruel... just torture and worry again... with the
brigh