"Will you ask your brother to speak a little more slowly and distinctly, Miss Massel? Thank you. Now what's your name, little boy?"
"Philip Massel, pleaseteacher!"
"Now, Philip Massel. I'm your head mistress. You must call me Miss Featherstone. Miss Briggs!" she called, "Miss Briggs! Will you please put Philip Massel into your class?" Then turning to Philip, "You will kindly call Miss Briggs 'teacher.' You understand?"
"Yes, pleaseteacher!"
"Stupid! But he'll soon know better," she assured Channah.
"Yes, Miss Featherstone!" Channah corroborated. Philip's hand feverishly held his sister's all this while.
"You'd better just see him to his place," said Miss Featherstone to Channah, as Miss Briggs led the way to her class.
"Sit here, Philip," said Miss Briggs, "next to Hyman Marks!"
"Don't go 'way, don't go 'way!" Philip huskily implored Channah. Hundreds of scornful eyes were stripping him bare of his blouse, his shined boots, his bow of vermilion sateen, till they all lay at his feet in a miserable heap and he shivered there in the cold, naked, despised. "Don't go 'way!" he moaned.
Channah looked despairingly towards Miss Briggs.