"You were," Noreen agreed, with fervour.
"Then that's all right and square. Please tell them I'm sorry I took it all."
"Have you finished?" asked Gabrielle tragically. "It's giving me a pain in both my arms to keep them up so long."
Noreen pulled her arms down. "It's all right. We've only been settling to be friends in this dorm. After all, it is a decent dorm; it was a pity to fight in it."
"It's got the best places for photos of any," Gabrielle said, walking round, and looking at Joey's collection in a very friendly way. "May I take them down and look? I say, what a darling little thing in socks. Is he your brother?"
"Yes—he's Bingo—his proper name is Bevil, but of course we couldn't call him a thing like that, poor kid," Joey explained, quite cheerfully. "He is pretty, isn't he? An artist came along and painted him last year—and he was in the Academy. He did him hugging a German helmet Father brought back—and just in his everyday things, so Bingo was pleased. He was looking up as if someone out of the picture was telling him something he wasn't going to lose a word of. The artist put some Latin under the picture—it meant 'Our fathers have told us.'"
Noreen had been staring open-mouthed all through the narrative.
"HAVE YOU FINISHED?" ASKED GABRIELLE