"Jolly near it, I expect, judging by your face now," said Tony critically. "Poor old dear!"
"Did Miss Vivian's cousin come back to find you?" asked Miss Delmege sharply.
"He came into the kitchen while I was still there, and afterwards he helped me to lock up."
"Afterwards?"
A tinge of colour crept into Miss Jones's face.
"I'm afraid you won't think I rose to the occasion at all," she said deprecatingly. "It always does make me rather ill to see blood, though I know it's idiotic, and it was the soldier's hand, not the air-raid a bit, I didn't mind that at all."
"What happened? Were you hysterical?" demanded Miss Delmege, with an inexplicable touch of umbrage in her refined little voice.
"Certainly not," said Grace emphatically. "If you really want to know, I was just sick over the sink."
Miss Jones's damaging revelation horrified the Hostel, no less than the crude manner of its avowal.
"Well," said Miss Henderson, "you really are the limit, Gracie—and a bit over."