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Griffin chuckled. "You see, I was in the ante-room, cataloguing the prints—you know I got that job last week. Well, the Board was droning on in the big room in their usual uninteresting fashion and I was deep in admiration of a Rembrandt etching—that one with the hat and the open window behind him—when Green sails past me, head up and majesty writ large on her bulging brow. She always does put on lugs when she reports to the Committee, so I didn't sit up and take notice right away. But in a minute or two I came to life, I can tell you! She was rolling off the sentences about 'injustice to a high-minded student' and 'unnecessary humiliation' and 'reparation to one who was an ornament to any school,' and a lot of other junk like that. I tell you, I could have hugged the old girl! The Board just sat still, like school-boys caught stealing jam, and she went on, getting more flowery all the time.", "How do you know that?" asked the major, all on the alert., A glare from Patricia stopped her, but it was too late. A chorus of laughing voices took up the demand, "A song, Miss Pat!" "Don't be stingy, Kendall Minor; tune up!" "Give us a sample, Miss Pat!" until Griffin, with a bow, offered her arm to the rebellious Patricia and led her, protesting and abashed, to the chair whence Elinor had escaped..