Miss Spence's searching eye had taken note of the bent head and the twisting button. She found it necessary to speak again.
“Penrod Schofield!”
He came languidly to life.
“Ma'am?”
“You may read your letter.”
“Yes'm.”
And he began to paw clumsily among his books, whereupon Miss Spence's glance fired with suspicion.
“Have you prepared one?” she demanded.
“Yes'm,” said Penrod dreamily.
“But you're going to find you forgot to bring it, aren't you?”