than he hated the boy himself. For of the boy he was sick of the sight. Which Williams knew. He grinned visibly.

Ursula turned to the map again, to go on with the geography lesson. But there was a little ferment in the class. Williams' spirit infected them all. She heard a scuffle, and then she trembled inwardly. If they all turned on her this time, she was beaten.

“Please, miss — — ” called a voice in distress.

She turned round.

One of the boys she liked was ruefully holding out a torn celluloid collar. She heard the complaint, feeling futile.

“Go in front, Wright,” she said.

She was trembling in every fibre.