"But you did it twice," said Christian.
"Yes, my young genius, I did. But never mind me; when I ventriloquize, just acknowledge my talent, but at the same time consider me your friend. You and I are in the same class, and we can't help knocking up against each other. By the way, where is your bedroom? In the White Corridor?"
Christian nodded.
"I thought as much. I am in the White Corridor too. We may as well be friends, for I'm sure I'd be a disagreeable enemy."
"I'd love to be your friend," said Christian. "Do you really mean it?"
"I always mean what I say. You ask Lucy Norris. Have you met Lucy—little, satin-faced Lucy, with hair that shines like a looking-glass, blue eyes, rosebud lips, and cheeks the color of the peach? Ah, there she is! I'll call her. Lucy, beloved. Lucy! I say, Lucy! Lucy!"
The girl whom Star had so cleverly described looked round her in a startled way; then her eyes met the bright ones of Star Lestrange, and she ran up to her.
"What is it, Star? What do you want?"
"Your Satinship," replied Star. "I want very specially to introduce you to my new friend, Christian Mitford. I want you and me and one or two others to form a sort of bodyguard round her. You see——"
Star's voice dropped. She bent towards Lucy and whispered something in her ear.