their broken grimy nails, and their surreptitious leers at Lucy Claudel. Were it not that, of all positions open to a sensitive woman, teaching afforded the long summer vacation, she would have given it up long ago. The wide nostrils of her short upturned nose dilated, and as she pursed her full dark lips, the faint brown hair above her upper lip stood out straight like the first fuzz of an adolescent boy. The lids of her large brown eyes drooped and her voice was low and husky.
"Come here, Lucy."
My goodness, what did I do now? Lucy walked from her seat in the rear toward her teacher.
Miss Shaver raised her head wearily, her thick black brows like outstretched wings of a bird. Her voice was sad and her tapering white fingers lay helpless on the green desk blotter.
What's the matter with her? wondered Lucy.
Miss Shaver's nostrils contracted and expanded and the organdy and Valenciennes lace jabot quivered. But she didn't seem angry.
"I was standing," she spoke slowly as if in revery, "at the window when the one o'clock bell rang and saw you lift your leg. I wonder whether you realize what an unladylike gesture that was?"
"I was just practicing a dance step I saw at the Empire last week."
"Let me see."
Miss Shaver's voice was toneless as she drew Lucy to her, lifted the blue skirt, and stared at the short pink tight pants. A flush began under the escaping curls at the nape of her neck and spread over her face. She pulled the dress down roughly and her fingers caressed Lucy's cheeks and slid to her shoulder.
She's pretty and smells good too, Lucy thought, and said, "Did you think I didn't have any pants on?"
Sharp nails dug into her shoulder as Miss Shaver pulled her so close Lucy could smell face powder.
For heaven's sake, she's going to kiss me.
Obediently she raised her head and felt the hot lips smother her. Then the claws spun her around and sent her off with a pat on the bottom.
"You little—devil, don't you dare do that again!"
Now what on earth was all that about? Lucy hastened, pleasantly stimulated, deciding to become friends with Miss Shaver who reminded her of Rudolph Valentino.
I guess it's her nostrils, she reflected.
