A feeling of expectancy controlled the whole roomful of girls. It came to a crisis—every girl jumped!—when the door opened and Mr. Sharp walked in.
The principal of Central High seldom troubled the girls' class rooms with his presence. When he addressed the young ladies it was usually en masse. He trusted Miss Carrington, almost entirely, in the management of the girls.
His rosy cheeks shone and his eyes twinkled through his glasses as he walked quickly to the platform and sat down beside Gee Gee at her table, which faced the girls, whereas her rolltop desk was at the rear of the platform, against the wall of the room.
Principal and teacher talked in low voices for some moments. Mr. Sharp cast no confusing glances about the room. He ignored the girls, as though his entire business was with their teacher.
At length he looked around, smiling as usual, Mr. Sharp was a pleasant and fair-minded man and the girls all liked him. He had their undivided attention in a moment, without the rapping of Miss Carrington's hard knuckle on the table top. Bobby said that that knuckle of Gee Gee's middle finger had been abnormally developed by continued bringing the class to order.
