But the child had just sat there. It was the politeness that scared the daylights out of Miss Butts. She was not an unkind woman, despite a lifetime of being gently dried out on the stove of education, but she was conscientious and a stickler for propriety and thought she knew how this sort of thing should go and was vaguely annoyed that it wasn't going.
" Er... if you would like to be alone, to have a cry–" she'd prompted, in an effort to get things moving on the right track.
" Would that help?" Susan had said.
It would have helped Miss Butts.
All she'd been able to manage was: "I wonder if, perhaps, you fully understood what I have told you?"
The child had stared at the ceiling as though trying to work out a difficult problem in algebra and then said, " I expect I will."
It was as if she'd already known, and had dealt with it in some way. Miss Butts had asked the teachers to watch Susan carefully. They'd said that was hard, because...
There was a tentative knock on Miss Butts's study door, as if it was being made by someone who'd really prefer not to be heard. She returned to the present.
" Come," she said.
The door swung open.
Susan always made no sound. The teachers had all remarked upon it. It was uncanny, they said. She was always in front of you when you least expected it.
" Ah, Susan," said Miss Butts, a tight smile scuttling across her face like a nervous tick over a worried sheep. "Please sit down."
" Of course, Miss Butts."
Miss Butts shuffled the papers.
" Susan..."
" Yes, Miss Butts?"
" I'm sorry to say that it appears you have been missed in lessons again."
" I don't understand, Miss Butts."
The headmistress leaned forward. She felt vaguely annoyed with herself, but... there was something frankly unlovable about the child. Academically brilliant at the things she liked doing, of course, but that was just it; she was brilliant in the same way that a diamond is brilliant, all edges and chilliness.