All over the room girls’ heads turned, nodding and winking at friends, whispering, giggling and grimacing with desperate bravery. One simulated suicide by leaning her bosom on her fountain pen.
Just behind sat Mabel. Her face was glistening and ghastly, and she sniffed at a bottle of smelling salts.
‘Mabel, are you going to faint?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I generally feel faintlike first thing in the morning. I’ll get better later.’
‘Mabel, you’re not fit—you mustn’t——’
‘Sh! I’m all right. Only it makes my head feel stupid.’ She stared aghast. ‘I don’t seem to be able to remember a thing.’
‘Don’t worry, Mabel. It’ll all come back when you settle down to it. I’ll look around now and then and see if you’re all right.’
‘Poor Mabel! Good luck. Wait for me afterwards and I’ll take you to have a cup of coffee. That’ll do you good.’
‘I shall enjoy that. Good luck, Judith.’