e
and go, had of late complained of rheumatic pains, and her companions
heard of her symptoms with dread. What would become of Sophy if those
pains increased? One after another the mistresses drifted over to where
Claire sat turning the pages of her magazine, and exchanged a few
fragments of conversation, and then the great bell clanged again, and
afternoon school began.
The first half-hour of afternoon school proved the most trying of the
day. Claire was tired after the exertions of the morning, and a very
passion for sleep consumed her being. She fought against it with all
her might, but the yawns would come; she fought against the yawns, and
the tears flowed. To her horror the infection spread, and the girls
began to yawn in their turn, with long, uncontrolled gapes. It was a
junior class, and the new mistress shrewdly suspected that the infection
was welcomed as an agreeable interlude. It was obvious that she could
not afford to reject that cup of coffee. Good or bad it must be drunk!
Rich or poor that penny must be dedicated to the task of vitalising that
first hour of sleepiness.
At the end of six weeks Claire felt as though she had been a High
School-mistress all her life. The regular methodical days, in which
every hour was mapped out, had a deadening effect on one who had been
used to constant variety, and except for a difference in the arrangement
of classes there seemed no distinction between one and the other. She
was a machine wound up to work steadily from Monday morning until Friday
night, and absurdly ready to run down when the time was over.
Every morning after breakfast she started forth with Miss Rhodes, by
foot if the weather were fine, by Tube if wet; every mid-day she dined
in the Staff-Room with the fifteen other mistresses, and gulped down a
cup of chicory coffee. At four o'clock the mistresses met once more for
tea, a free meal this time, supplemented by an occasional cake which one
of the fifteen provided for the general good. At five she and her table
companion returned to their rooms, and rested an hour before taking the
evening meal.
Claire was sufficiently French to be intolerant of badly cooked food,
and instead of resigning herself to eat and grumble, after the usual
habit of lodging-house dwellers, resolutely set to work to improve the
situation. The coffee machine had now a chafing-dish as companion, and
it was a delightful change of work to set the two machines to
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