"Oh, but I don't believe one of them would take anything."
"There you go again, Alison, with your 'everybody's honest.' I tell you everybody is not. There's a ghost or something in this school," insisted the incorrigible Joan. "Rachel lost her gold pencil a fortnight ago. Ever find it, Ray?"
"No. But I do leave my things about. It may have slipped out of sight somewhere."
"So it may. Let me know when it returns of its own accord. This thing reminds me of the title of a little French book I read once: Les Petits Mysteres de la Vie Humaine. If I've made mistakes, Mademoiselle is not here to correct me, and the rest of you couldn't. Anyway, it means 'The Little Mysteries of Human Life,'" said Joan, looking defiantly about her.
"Well, I don't like mysteries," remarked Evelyn. "What we need is a clean-up day, to find all these missing valuables, and clear up all the mysteries."
The supper bell broke up the conclave.