Page 314 - sons-and-lovers

Miriam sat silent, withdrawn into herself. Every one of
Paul’s friends delighted in taking sides against her, and he
left her in the lurch—seemed almost to have a sort of re-
venge upon her then.
‘Are you still at school?’ asked Miriam of Beatrice.
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve not had your notice, then?’
‘I expect it at Easter.’
‘Isn’t it an awful shame, to turn you off merely because
you didn’t pass the exam.?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Beatrice coldly.
‘Agatha says you’re as good as any teacher anywhere. It
seems to me ridiculous. I wonder why you didn’t pass.’
‘Short of brains, eh, ‘Postle?’ said Beatrice briefly.
‘Only brains to bite with,’ replied Paul, laughing.
‘Nuisance!’ she cried; and, springing from her seat, she
rushed and boxed his ears. She had beautiful small hands.
He held her wrists while she wrestled with him. At last she
broke free, and seized two handfuls of his thick, dark brown
hair, which she shook.
‘Beat!’ he said, as he pulled his hair straight with his fin-
gers. ‘I hate you!’
She laughed with glee.
‘Mind!’ she said. ‘I want to sit next to you.’
‘I’d as lief be neighbours with a vixen,’ he said, neverthe-
less making place for her between him and Miriam.
‘Did it ruffle his pretty hair, then!’ she cried; and, with
her hair-comb, she combed him straight. ‘And his nice lit-
tle moustache!’ she exclaimed. She tilted his head back and

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