“And this,” said Mrs. Gay briskly, “is Tom.” Then she added in an urgent aside to the aforesaid Tom, “Do try to stand still! Miss Wilson will think you have fleas if you wriggle like that!”
Before the flabbergasted Head of the Chalet School could break in with an assurance that such an idea had never crossed her mind, Tom spoke for herself.
“Nonsense, Mater!” she said calmly. “Vicarage kids don’t have fleas—not as a rule anyhow.”