Georges Laurens took off his heavy steel-rimmed spectacles and wiped them on his handkerchief. Then he took the tongs and placed another log on the fire. "My suggestion is this: Why don't I go to the headmistress of this school and get permission for Miss Flip to come to tea with us every Saturday or Sunday afternoon. That would be allowed, wouldn't it?" "I don't know," Flip said. "Esmée Bodet's parents are spending a month in Montreux and she has dinner with them every Sunday. But Paul's a boy and we're not allowed to have dates until we're Seniors." "I think if I were very charming," Georges Laurens refilled her cup with hot chocolate from the copper saucepan, "I could manage your headmistress. What is her name?" "Mlle. Dragonet," Flip told him. "We call her The Dragon," she said, then added, remembering the visit in the infirmary, "but she's really quite human." Georges Laurens laughed. "Well, I shall be St. George, then, and conquer the dragon. I will brave her in her den this very afternoon." "And now I suggest that you get back to your school and tomorrow we will have a proper visit, and I will come for you and bring you over." He held out his hand. "I promise." 8 It never occurred to Flip that on this last forbidden trip to the chateau she might be caught. Luck had been her friendly companion in the venture and now that the visits to Paul were about to be approved by authority, surely fortune would not forsake her. But, just as she came to the clearing where the railroad tracks ran through the woods, she saw two figures in warm coats and snow boots and recognized Madame Perceval and Signorina del Rossi. She darted behind a tree, but they had evidently caught a glimpse of her blue uniform coat, for Signorina put a gloved hand on Madame Perceval's arm and said something in a low voice, and Madame Perceval called out sharply, "Who is it?" Flip thought of making a wild dash for safety, but she knew it would be useless. They were between her and the school and they would be bound to recognize her if she tried to run past them. So she stepped out from behind the tree and confronted them just as a train came around the bend. In a moment the train was between them; she was not sure whether or not they had had an opportunity to recognize her in the misty dark; the school uniforms were all identical and there were dozens of girls with short fair hair. Now was her chance to run and hide. They would never find her in the dark of the woods and the train would give her a good chance to get a head start. But somehow, even if this meant that she would never be given permission to see Paul, she could not run like a coward from Madame Perceval, so she stood very quietly, cold with fear, until the train had passed. Then she crossed the tracks to them. "Thank you for waiting, Philippa," Madame Perceval said. She stood, numbly staring at the art teacher, her fingers twisting unhappily inside her mittens.