"I have," Flip answered in the strange raucous voice that issued in so unwelcome a manner from her throat. "Please, couldn't I get up, Mlle. Duvoisine? I'm not sick, truly, and I do so hate being in bed." "What is this nonsense?" Mlle. Duvoisine asked sharply. "You can hear what you sound like yourself. I know you aren't ill, but I have you in bed so that you won't be, and so that you won't give your germs to anyone else. If you dislike me so intensely that you can't bear to be around me, just get well as quickly as you can." "Oh, no, Mlle. Duvoisine, it isn't that!" Flip protested. "It isn't anything to do with you. I just promised someone I'd do something this afternoon, and I don't know what they'll think if I don't keep my word." "I can give anyone a message for you, explaining that you're in the infirmary," Mlle. Duvoisine said, and her voice was kind. "I'm afraid you couldn't, to this person," Flip answered mournfully. "Thank you ever so much anyhow, Mlle. Duvoisine, and I'm sorry to be such a bother." "All right, Philippa." Mlle. Duvoisine put the lunch tray down and left. When she brought in Flip's tea she said, "Since you're the only victim in my dungeon at present, Philippa, I think I'll run down to the Faculty Room for an hour. If you want me for anything all you need do is press that button. It's connected with the Faculty Room as well as my desk and Miss Tulip or I will come right away." "Thank you very much," Flip said. "I'm sure I won't need anything." "I've filled your hot water bottle for you," Mademoiselle said kindly, and stopped at the window screwing in the top. "It's just beginning to snow. Now Fräulein Hauser and Madame Perceval and all the skiers will be happy. Sure you don't mind my leaving you?" "Oh, no, Mademoiselle!" This was the opportunity Flip had not dared hope for. When Mlle. Duvoisine had left she sprang out of bed and got her clothes out of the closet. She dressed without giving herself time to think. If Mlle. Duvoisine were going to be gone an hour she would have just time, if she ran, to get to the chateau, tell Paul what had happened, and get back to the infirmary. That is, as long as she wasn't caught. But she knew that she must not let herself even think about being caught. Desperately she shoved her pillows under the covers so that they looked like someone asleep, peered out the door, saw that the way down the corridor was clear, and pelted for the back stairs. The girls were strictly forbidden to use the back stairs which afforded a means of entrance and exit that could not be detected by the teacher on duty at the desk in the lounge, but Flip was too desperate to care. When she got out the small back door she looked around wildly, and ran for the woods like one pursued. Thank heaven everyone was at tea. When she got in sight of the chateau she was winded, her knee ached, and her hair was flecked with the first falling flakes of snow. She did not see Paul and her heart sank.