In the outcries and laughter which followed, Miriam noticed only the hoarse hacking laugh of the Australian. Her eyes flew up the table and fixed her as she sat laughing, her chair drawn back, her knees crossed--tea was drawing to an end. The detail of her terrifyingly stylish ruddy-brown frieze dress with its Norfolk jacket bodice and its shiny black leather belt was hardly distinguishable from the dark background made by the folding doors. But the dreadful outline of her shoulders was visible, the squarish oval of her face shone out--the wide forehead from which the wiry black hair was combed to a high puff, the red eyes, black now, the long straight nose, the wide laughing mouth with the enormous teeth. Her voice conquered easily. "Nein," she tromboned, through the din. Mademoiselle's little finger stuck up sharply like a steeple, her mouth said, "Oh--Oh----" Fräulein's smile was at its widest, waiting the issue. "Nein," triumphed the Australian, causing a lull. "Leise, kinder, leise, doucement, gentlay," chided Fräulein, still smiling. "Hermann, _yes_," proceeded the Australian, "aber Hugo--_né_!" Miriam heard it agreed in the end that someone named Hugo did not wear a moustache, though someone named Hermann did. She was vaguely shocked and interested. 4 After tea the great doors were thrown open and the girls filed into the saal. It was a large high room furnished like a drawing-room--enough settees and easy chairs to accommodate more than all the girls. The polished floor was uncarpeted save for an archipelago of mats and rugs in the wide circle of light thrown by the four-armed chandelier. A grand piano was pushed against the wall in the far corner of the room, between the farthest of the three high French windows and the shining pillar of porcelain stove. 5