Flip tried to stumble along faster with her long legs. Her legs were very long and straight and skinny, but sometimes it seemed as though she must be bow-legged, knock-kneed and pigeon-toed all at once, the way she always managed to stumble and trip herself up. Erna pushed open a heavy door. Down one side of the wall were rows and rows of small cubicles, each marked with a number. Each had a shelf for toothbrush, mug, and soap, and hooks underneath for towels. On the opposite wall were twelve cubicles each with a wash basin, and a curtain to afford a measure of privacy. "The johns are next door," Erna said. "Here's the bath list. Let's see. You're eight forty five Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. That's my time, too. We can bang on the partition. Once Black and Midnight found a girl crawling under the partition and she was expelled." Erna's French was fluent, with just a trace of German in it. Flip had learned to speak excellent French that summer in Paris so she had no difficulty in following it, though she, herself, had nothing to say. But Erna seemed to be perfectly happy dominating the conversation. "Come on," Erna said. "I'll take you downstairs, and you can say good-bye to your parents. I want to see if Jackie's come in from Paris yet. She's one of our roommates. This is her third year here." "Jackie what?" Flip asked, for something to say. "Jacqueline Bernstein. Her father directs movies. Last year he came over to see Jackie and he brought a movie projector with him and we all had movies in Assembly Hall. It was wonderful." They had reached the big entry hall now and Flip looked around but could not see either her father or Eunice, and at this point even Eunice would have been a welcome face. Erna led her up to the concierge's desk where Miss Tulip still presided. "Well, Erna, what is it now?" the matron asked. "Please, Miss Tulip," Erna said, her hands clasped meekly in front of her. "You said I was to show this new girl our room and everything, so I did." Miss Tulip looked at Erna, then at Flip, then at her note book. "Oh, yes. Philippa Hunter, number 97. Please take her to Mlle. Dragonet, Erna. Her father is waiting there for her." "Come on," Erna told Flip impatiently. Mlle. Dragonet's rooms were at the end of the long corridor on the second floor and were shut off from the rest of the school by heavy sliding doors. These were open now and Erna pulled Flip into a small hall with two doors on each side. She pointed a solemn finger at the first door on the right. "This is the Dragon's study," she said. "Look out any time you're sent there. It means you're in for it." Then she pointed to the second door. "This one's her living room and that's not so bad. If you're sent to the living room you're not going to get a lecture, anyhow, though the less I see of the Dragon the happier I am." "Is she?" Flip asked. "Is she what?" "A dragon."