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 opponent. At this point Miss Curtis came fluttering back.

"Oh, Mr. Bevans," she began, "won't you please say just a word to poor Sally Boyd—one of our dearest girls? She's in tears because she thinks you mean to turn her out, that no one could ever make a woman of the world of her. She says she saw you look at her with disgust—her own word. She's rather plump, it's true, but one of the kindest natures—"

"Ask her to come in," said Austin. He had not anticipated an interview with a pupil so soon, but he was not one to turn back at the call of duty.

"Awkward, when they take us literally, isn't it?" said Miss Hayes. Austin regarded her coldly. He saw he would have trouble with this woman.

Miss Curtis returned presently, bringing with her Sally, who was pulling down her navy blouse in the hope of lengthening the lines of her figure. She was no longer crying—only sniffing a little. Austin found himself confronted with a new problem—what he should call his pupils. He had to make a decision.

"How do you do, Sally?" he said, quite paternally.