Told off in batches, they filed up the stairs. On the first landing
stood Miss Day, watching with lynx-eyes to see that no books or
eatables were smuggled to the bedrooms. In a strident voice she
exhorted the noisy to silence, and the loiterers to haste.
Laura sped to her room. She was fortunate enough to find it still
empty. Tossing off her clothes, she gabbled ardently through her own
prayers, drew the blankets up over her head, and pretended to be
asleep. Soon the lights were out and all was quiet. Then, with her face
burrowed deep, so that not a sound could escape, she gave free play to
her tears.