Twelve to four. And they would have to live together nobody knew how long: as long as the war lasted.
* * * * *
That evening, in the bedroom that John shared with Sutton, they sat on two beds, discussing their prospects. Gwinnie was voluble.
"They've driven us out of our messroom with their beastliness. We shall have to sit in our bedrooms all the time."
"We'd better let the office know we're here," said Sutton, "in case we're sent for."
"Anyhow," said Charlotte, "I'm not going to bed."
John smiled. A struggling, dejected smile.
"My dear child, I've told you they're not going to send us out first."
"I don't know—" said Gwinnie.
"I do know. We shall be lucky if we get a look in when McClane's cars break down."