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I’m not out in Hollywood much. Mummy knows them, and she likes them.”
    â€œThat isn’t what we mean,” said Brookie. “We mean, what are they like to talk to and do they drink a lot or throw temperament or anything, and is there any gossip you know about them?”
    â€œIn the first place I don’t know, because my mother talks about their ability and their work and things like that, and in the second place even if I did know I wouldn’t mutter cheap gossip about them.”
    The two girls were silent, and Courtney saw that she had not started out very well.
    â€œYou needn’t get so superior,” Sue said.
    â€œWell, anyhow . . .” Brookie said.
    â€œHey, it’s four o’clock, and I’ve got to wash my hair before study hall,” Sue said.
    â€œYou’re lucky to be on the honor roll so you can study in your room,” Brookie said weakly to Courtney.
    â€œI’ve . . . I’m sorry I can’t stay,” said Courtney, “but I’ve got a lot of studying and I’d better get at it.”
    â€œCome up more often,” said Brooks. It was a remark that is never made to a friend.
    â€œYes, don’t hide in that room of yours so much studying,” Sue said.
    â€œThanks for the orange,” Courtney said, and left.
    When she got to her own room she flopped on the bed.
    â€œDid you see Alberts and Clarke the way I suggested?”
    â€œYes, I saw them.”
    â€œHow did it go?”
    â€œIt was a fiasco!” Courtney laughed at herself. “The first thing they did was ask me about all this crappy gossip, and I blew up the way I always do when people ask me that. And then I left. They gave me an orange.”
    Janet sighed. “Have a banana.”
    â€œJanet, sweetie, you’re an idiot.”
    They laughed and split a banana and when Janet left for study hall, Courtney stared at the ceiling again and fell asleep, although she wasn’t tired.

Chapter 3
    D r. Reismann’s office was heavy and pine-paneled, and its manliness made Courtney immediately comfortable. The idea that she was there to talk about herself pleased her, despite the fact that Mrs. Forrest had insisted on being present. Housemothers were so zealous in their intrusion of their students’ privacy. The doctor, a short and scholarly-looking German, who, Sondra Farrell had told Mrs. Forrest, was one of the best diagnosticians in the New York area, leaned back in his upholstered chair and looked at Courtney.
    â€œWell, Courtney, you are a very healthy young woman. I can find nothing wrong with you but a very slight anemia, which is common at your age. Let me see, you’re fifteen, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes. You mean that you don’t know why I’m tired all the time, either?”
    â€œThere is nothing physically wrong with you. Tell me, you’re on the hockey team at Scaisbrooke, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes, I’m on the junior team.”
    â€œYou must have to train a great deal. Does that tire you?”
    â€œNo more than it tires the other girls. I’m most tired in the mornings when I wake up.”
    â€œHow much sleep do you get?”
    â€œAbout ten hours a night.”
    â€œI see. What do you do right after you wake up?”
    â€œI make my bed and straighten the room for inspection, then I have breakfast, then we have to walk around the quadrangle after breakfast, then we have inspection of our uniforms, then we go to chapel, then there are about ten minutes before the first class.”
    â€œYou’re busy in the mornings.”
    â€œMmm-hmm.” This was dull. “I get awfully tired in the afternoons, when we have some free time,” she added.
    The doctor was looking over his sheet of paper.
    â€œYour parents are divorced,” he commented.
    â€œYes, when I was about ten,” she said. This was more interesting.
    â€œDo you see much of