"Everything all right?" Martha asked. "You're all settled and everything?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Anything I can do for you?"
"No, thank you."
"Well, if you ever want me for anything, just come along and give a bang on my study door."
"I will. Thank you very much," Flip said, knowing that she wouldn't. And she went back into the Common Room and sat at the big billiard table, a legacy from the days when the school had been a hotel, and tried to write a letter to her father. But she could not concentrate. Images of Eunice kept crowding themselves into her mind. Eunice. Eunice and her father. Once Eunice had even said to her something about her father being young and probably marrying again—but not Eunice! Please, not anybody, but especially please, not Eunice!
4
The next morning when she woke up, Flip's throat was raw and her head was hot and when she opened her mouth to speak her voice came out in a hoarse croak.
"You'd better report to the nurse," Erna told her.
Flip shook her head violently. "I'm all right. Just getting a cold."