Herr Schraub, the teacher of history, was, she felt, almost openly contemptuous of his class. He would begin lecturing, almost before he was inside the door. He taught from a book, sitting with downcast eyes, his round red mass of face--expressionless save for the bristling spikes of his tiny straw-coloured moustache and the rapid movements of his tight rounded little lips--persistently averted from his pupils. For the last few minutes of his time he would, ironically, his eyes fixed ahead of him at a point on the table, snap questions--indicating his aim with a tapping finger, going round the table like a dealer at cards. Surely the girls must detest him.... The Germans made no modification of their polite attentiveness. Amongst the English only Gertrude and the Martins found any answers for him. Miriam, proud of sixth-form history essays and the full marks she had generally claimed for them, had no memory for facts and dates; but she made up her mind that were she ever so prepared with a correct reply, nothing should drag from her any response to these military tappings. Fräulein presided over these lectures from the corner of the sofa out of range of the eye of the teacher and horrified Miriam by voicelessly prompting the girls whenever she could. There was no kind of preparation for these lessons. 2 Miriam mused over the difference between the bearing of these men and that of the masters she remembered and tried to find words. What was it? Had her masters been more--respectful than these Germans were? She felt they had. But it was not only that. She recalled the men she remembered teaching week by week through all the years she had known them ... the little bolster-like literature master, an albino, a friend of Browning, reading, reading to them as if it were worth while, as if they were equals ... interested friends--that had never struck her at the time.... But it was true--she could not remember ever having felt a schoolgirl ... or being "talked down" to ... dear Stroodie, the music-master, and Monsieur--old white-haired Monsieur, dearest of all, she could hear his gentle voice pleading with them on behalf of his treasures ... the drilling-master with his keen, friendly blue eye ... the briefless barrister who had taught them arithmetic in a baritone voice, laughing all the time but really wanting them to get on.