"And you think you have learned?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle. And it was Madame Perceval who said I should enter as an intermediate. I haven't seen the others ski so I wouldn't have known in what group I belonged."
"So Madame Perceval taught you, did she?" Mlle. Dragonet asked. She put her pencil down and said, "Very well, Philippa. I'll speak to Fräulein Hauser and explain the situation. It's almost time for Call Over now. You'd better get down stairs."
"Thank you, Mlle. Dragonet. Thank you ever so much. And you won't say anything about its being Madame Perceval who found me the skis and helped me, please? Because she said it would be better not to, only I didn't think she'd mind if I told you under these—these—imperative circumstances."
Mlle. Dragonet smiled. "I won't say anything about her part in it. I promise."
"I'm sorry to have bothered you," Flip said. "I didn't want to but I didn't know what else to do. I was desperate."
"It's what I'm here for, Philippa," Mlle. Dragonet said.
As Flip left Mlle. Dragonet's sitting room and started down stairs she wondered how she could ever live through the hours until the ski meet. The two months since the Christmas holidays had flown by like a swift bird but the brief time until the next day stretched out ahead of her like an eternity.
Erna met her when she got downstairs. "You didn't get your mail, Flip. I took it for you."
"Oh, thanks ever so much," Flip said. "Oh, wonderful! It's a letter from father. Thanks lots, Erna."