“You may wait for Sally’s return. And you are both forbidden to speak of this visit,” the principal said, and withdrew from the room as softly as she had entered it.
“Oh, dear me!” gasped Nancy, “she will catch them all in Number 30.”
“And serve ’em right,” said Jennie.
They waited, expecting to see Jennie’s roommate coming back in a hurry. But there was no disturbance. The clock at the foot of the main staircases had long since struck eleven. Now it tolled midnight.
Soon there were creaking of doors, faint rustlings in the corridors, giggling half-suppressed, and then the door of Number 40 opened again softly.
“Oh, gee!” exclaimed Sally. “Is she here?”
“Yes, she is,” replied Jenny, tartly. “What have you got to say against it?”
“Oh, you needn’t be so short, Jennie Bruce,” said Sally.
She slipped out of her wrapper and into her bed. Nancy got up, kissed Jennie warmly, and left the room silently. When she got back to Number 30 Cora was alone. All traces of the spread were hidden.
Cora said never a word; neither did Nancy. But she wondered much. Madame Schakael, she believed, had not hunted out the mystery of her being with Jennie Bruce. Would she and Sally be the only ones punished for this affair?