"You have no objection to my taking her?" Dill said.

"Certainly not," Mrs. Parker answered. "Why do you ask?

In a dark, introspective voice, Dill said, "It would put an end to her schooling, for one thing."

"I don't see that that matters."

Dill eyed her, and she became flustered; his steady gaze made her shrink away. "I suppose," he said, "that schooling for her has been a failure anyhow. So it doesn't matter."

"That's right," she said quickly. "We can't help malcon­tents like her. As you pointed out in your statement to the class."

"Have her taken down to my car," Dill said. "She's been detained by someone capable of restraining her, I presume. It would be a shame if she selected this moment to sneak off."

"We have her locked in one of the washrooms," Mrs. Parker said.

Again he eyed her, but this time he said nothing. While she shakily made out the proper form he took a moment to gaze out the window at the playground below. Now it was recess; the faint, muffled voices of the children drifted up to the office.

"What game is that?" Dill said finally. "Where they mark with the chalk." He pointed.

"I don't know," she said, looking over his shoulder.

At that, Dill was dumbfounded. "You mean you let them play unorganized games? Games of their own de­vising?"

"No," she said. "I mean I'm not in charge of playground teaching; it's Miss Smollet who handles that. See her down there?"

When the custody transfer had been made out, Dill took it from her and departed. Presently she saw, through the window, the man and his staff crossing the playground. She watched as he waved genially to the children, and she saw him stop several times to bend down to speak to some individual child.