CHAPTER IX
A MODERN DIOGENES
“Half-past nine. Sh! Yes, down in the old laundry.”
“Who’s coming?”
“The whole club. No end of fun.”
This whispered conversation took place in the upper corridor. Many of the girls had come from schools where frolics were looked upon as an almost heinous crime, and strict rules and surveillance had made their lives a burden to them.
It was about ten o’clock when ghostly figures began to slip through the dark halls. Lights had been extinguished at nine-thirty and all was now silent.
Miss Preston was in her room in a remote part of the house, and most of the other teachers had rooms in the adjoining building. The laundry in this house was never used, and stout blinds shut out—and in—all light.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Who’s there?” was whispered from within.