"Well, Phyllis Tressider told me that she was," persisted Kathleen. "Her mother was German and married an Englishman, and they lived in Germany before the war. The kid jabbers German like a native. Fact, Monica. Phyllis says the kid told them so one day, bold as brass about it. She's got all their sneaky ways, too. She's always getting them into rows, and is an awful little funk into the bargain. If that isn't German, I don't know what is!"
Monica said nothing further then, but that evening after supper, she encountered Phyllis Tressider in one of the corridors and immediately cornered her on the subject of Geraldine's nationality.
"What makes you think she's German?" she asked. "Did she tell you she was?"
"Well—all but," said Phyllis. "You wouldn't have any doubts about it if you heard her talk their beastly lingo! She's got Pretty Polly beat to a frazzle."
"Well, I don't believe it," said Monica firmly. "And I think it's jolly rotten of you Lower Fifth kids to go spreading a rumour like that about the school. Even if it were true, the least you could do would be to keep it to yourselves. I didn't know that Wakehurst girls could be such rotten little sneaks!"
"We're not sneaks!" said Phyllis indignantly. "It's she who's a sneak! Why, she got Jack Pym kept in so's she couldn't be tested for the second eleven, on her very first day at school!" And she poured out a somewhat highly-coloured version of the episode of the caricature.
But Monica was not at all sympathetic with Jack's wrongs.
"She was new and didn't know," she said. "You are little brutes to go giving the kid a rough time just because Jack chooses to get herself into trouble. As for her being German—well, even if she is, she needn't necessarily be any the worse for that. I dare say there are some decent Germans—just as there are some rotten English people!" With which, for Monica, rather bitter little speech, the Sixth Form girl stalked away.
Phyllis chose to consider herself very much aggrieved by the wigging Monica had administered, and seeking out her chum, Dorothy, she confided her woes to her. Dorothy was properly sympathetic.
"Well, anyway, if she isn't German, she's a beastly little sneak—and a rotten little coward into the bargain! Let's do something to show Monica what she is really like, shall we? If we could scare her up in the dorm when Monica was there, so that she could see what a funk she is, perhaps she'd believe us."