church-like windows down one side. At both ends were scores of
pigeon-holes. There was a piano in it and a fireplace; it had [P.45]
pale blue walls, and only strips of carpet on the floor. At present it
was darkish, for the windows did not catch the sun.

Laura was roused by a voice at her side; turning, she found her
neighbour offering her a plate of bread.

"No, thank you," she said impulsively; for the bread was cut in chunks,
and did not look inviting.

But the girl nudged her on the sly. "You'd better take some," she
whispered.

Laura then saw that there was nothing else. But she saw, too, the smiles
and signs that again flew round: the new girl had said no.

Humbly she accepted the butter and the cup of tea which were passed to
her in turn, and as humbly ate the piece of rather stale bread. She felt
forlornly miserable under the fire of all these unkind eyes, which took
a delight in marking her slips: at the smallest further mischance she
might disgrace herself by bursting out crying. Just at this moment,
however, something impelled her to look up. Her vis-a-vis, whom she had
as yet scarcely noticed, was staring hard. And now, to her great
surprise, this girl winked at her, winked slowly and deliberately with
the right eye. Laura was so discomposed that she looked away again at
once, and some seconds elapsed before she was brave enough to take
another peep. The wink was repeated.

It was a black-haired girl this time, a girl with small blue eyes, a