There was absolute quiet for some seven or eight minutes, and then a little murmur arose again.
Joey had dropped her writing-things and said her prayers like the rest. She wondered if she ought to feel ashamed of her behaviour with the bath; the sad thing was that she didn't, particularly. And if she said she was sorry now, the furious three would think she was afraid of what they might do to her. Joey decided to stick it out, but have a shorter and a cooler bath to-morrow.
Another bell rang. Noreen and Syb were already in bed; Barbara jumped up at the bell, and Joey more slowly followed her example. The Prefect looked in again.
"All in bed—that's right." She turned to put out the light. "Good-night."
"Good-night, Ingrid," said the injured three in a burst. "Good-night," said Joey pointedly by herself when the others had finished.
Ingrid Latimer looked in her direction. "Why, it's the new kid."
She came across to Joey's bed. "Got my message, young 'un?"
"Yes, thanks awfully."
"That's all right. He won't think any more of it. You come to me, if anybody tries on that sort of game again. You'll always find some fat-headed idiots in Coll who think it funny. Good-night."