Esther
asked if one of us would get up and put the light out, although it was
not very far from her own bed. Nobody answered. Then she called me.
I got up and she said, "You are such a good little girl that ghosts
won't do any harm to you." She put her head under the bedclothes, and
I blew the lamp out. And directly it was put out I saw thousands of
shining specks of light, and felt something cold on my cheeks. I was
sure that there were green dragons, with mouths aflame, under the beds.
I could feel their claws on my feet, and lights were jumping about on
each side of my head. I wanted to sit down, and when I got to my bed I
was quite sure that my two feet had gone. When I dared, I stooped down
and felt for them. They were very cold. I went to sleep at last
holding them in my two hands.

In the morning Bonne Esther found the cat on a bed near the door. She
had had kittens during the night. When Sister Marie-Aimee was told
about it, she said that the cat had certainly opened the door by
jumping at the latch. But we never felt sure about that, and the
little girls used to talk about it in low voices for a long time.

Next week all the girls who were eight years old went down to the big
dormitory. I had a bed near the window, quite close to Sister
Marie-Aimee's room. Marie Renaud and Ismerie again had their beds on
each side of me. When we were in bed Sister Marie-Aimee often used to
come and sit by me. She would take one of my hands and pat it, and
look out of the window. One night there was a big fire in the
neighbourhood, and the whole dormitory was lit up. Sister Marie-Aimee
opened the window wide, shook me, and said, "Wake up, come and see the
fire." She took me in her arms, passed her hands over my face to wake
me, and said again, "Come and see the fire; see how beautiful it is."
I was so sleepy that my head fell on her shoulder. Then she boxed my
ears, and called me a little silly, and I woke up and began to cry.
She took me in her arms again, sat down, and rocked me, holding me
close to her. She bent her head forward towards the window. Her face
looked transparent, and her eyes were full of light. Ismerie hated
Sister Marie-Aimee to come to the window. It prevented her from
talking, and she always had something to say. Her voice was so loud
that one heard it at the other end of the dormitory. Sister
Marie-Aimee used to say, "There's Ismerie talking again;" and Ismerie
used to answ