“Naomi,” said Rollison. “Answer me another question. Do you really think that Smith Hall is in danger of being ruined—or are you afraid that you, personally, might be forced to leave and be replaced?”

She did not avert her gaze.

“I don’t think it would be continued without me. I don’t mean that I am indispensable in the actual work, but I don’t think the sponsors would go on paying the cost if I were to leave. I can’t be sure, of course, but Professor Nimmo assures me he would withdraw his support—and if he were to withdraw I’m sure the others would, too.”

“So you’ve discussed this with them?”

“Of course,” answered Naomi.

“Who are they, apart from Professor Nimmo?”

“There are four others,” she said, looking about her. “Did you notice where I put my handbag? Ah, there—” she moved to get up, seeing the bag on the table by her chair in the big room, but Rollison, moving with almost startling speed, fetched it for her. “Thank you.” She opened it, and took out a small, printed brochure. “All the details are in there. We use that to show the girls whom we think could benefit.” She watched him glance down the list. “Do you recognise any of. them?”

He read :

Professor George Brown              — Chair of Philosophy.

Dr. William C. Carfax              — Chair of English Literature.

Professor Keith Webberson — Chair of European Languages.

Dr. O. J. Offenberger              — Chair of Advanced Mathematics.

“I know Keith Webberson,” Rollison remarked, and reflected that he could get a completely objective report from a man with whom he had been both at school and at Oxford. “And I’ve heard of Brown and Carfax by reputation—Offenberger is a new one on me. And these all give tuition free?”