Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. Spurling in alarm. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown.
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