She sat down on the bed beside Billie. Her hands felt cold but her head was throbbing feverishly.
“Billie,” she said dully, “it’s the end of everything for me here.”
“Nonsense!” said Billie, and took one of the cold hands and held it tight.
“It is,” said Edina. “They’ll say I took that money, Billie. What’s worse, they’ll think I took it.”
“I won’t,” said Billie.
“I know you won’t. I think you’re the only one here who really knows me. It’s been a long hard fight with the rest. Now they will think I took the money and it will be the end of everything for me. I—I was beginning to be so happy here.”
Before Billie could say a word of comfort or reassurance the door opened and several of the younger girls flocked in. Their talk and laughter died at sight of Billie and Edina.
“Well!” said a dark-haired, dark-eyed, pert little thing. “You two look as if you’d been talking secrets. What’s up?”
Before Billie could stop her or could even be sure what she was going to do, Edina got to her feet and faced the curious girls.
Her eyes were red with crying, her fingers clasped and unclasped nervously, but her voice was steady as she said: