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take her away from the school?”
“I’d gamble my year’s salary on it!”
She did not sleep very well that night. She lay, taut and
anxious, mentally rehearsing an apology to Marc Lillitos, but
each time choking as she opened her mouth and saw, in her
mind’s eye, that arrogant dark face. After all, he had insulted
Sam! And she was not really sorry for anything she had said.
It had all been true. She just regretted having said it so force-
fully.
She thumped her pillow irritably. What a pity he had come
at that particular moment. She was certain neither Pallas
nor Sam were emotionally involved with each other. It was
just friendship. But to a man l
ike Marc Lillitos a friendly hug
looked like moral depravity.
She arrived at Cheddall very early next day, anticipating a
summons to Miss Carter’s study. The Head would quite
rightly feel she had behaved very stupidly in her response to
the situation. She could have been more tactful. The trouble
was, thought Kate wryly, that although she had blonde hair,
she had inherited her redheaded father’s blazing temper. As
a child she had often had lectures from him on the subject, no
less stern because he fully understood her problem.
“I have a temper, too, Kate,” he used to say, “but one must
learn to control it, rather than let it control you.”
It was odd that Sam, who had his father’s hair, had been
by-passed by the family temper. He was a very good-natured
boy.
She waited all morning in suspense, but no summons
came. Her discreet enquiries in the staff-room told her that
