"Sorry we haven't a spoon," apologized Marjorie.
For lack of other means of getting at their sweet delicacy the girls dipped lead-pencils into the condensed milk and took what they could.
"It's rather like white honey," decided Betty after a critical taste. "Yes—I certainly think it's quite topping. It makes me think of Russian toffee."
"Don't speak of toffee. We haven't made any since sugar went short. Jemima! I shall eat heaps when the war's over!"
"You greedy pig! You ought to leave it for the soldiers."
"But there won't be any soldiers then."
"Yes, there'll be some for years and years afterwards. They'll take some time, you know, to get well in the hospitals."
"Then there's a chance for me to nurse," exclaimed Marjorie. "I'm always so afraid the war will all be over before I've left school, and——"
"I say, what's that noise?" interrupted Irene anxiously. "If the Acid Drop drops on us she'll be very acid indeed."
For reply, Marjorie popped the condensed milk tin into her wardrobe, blew out the candle, and hopped into bed post-haste, an example which was followed by the others with equal dispatch. They were only just in time, for a moment later the door opened, and Miss Norton, clad in a blue dressing-gown, flashed her torchlight into the room. Seeing the girls all in bed, and apparently fast asleep, she did not enter, but closed the door softly, and they heard her footsteps walking away down the corridor.