She hummed happily and let the tune spin her round and round until she was dizzy.

“Ruth, stop that at once.”

She stopped. She'd done it again. Nineteen pairs of eyes accused her. Her cheeks hot, she slipped into her place between Angela and Charity. Angela pinched the back of her hand.

“Show off!”

“Ouch!”

“What was that?” The dance teacher spun around. Angela looked blandly innocent. Ruth put her smarting hand behind her back. “Ruth, are you quite ready?”

“Yes, Teacher Forman.”

“Very well. Girls, begin again.”

Class dragged on. Ruth was thankful when they were dismissed for library period. The other girls pushed past her as if she didn't exist and hurried down the corridor. Library period was popular, as there was always a chance of seeing, sometimes even of exchanging a surreptitious word with one of the boys.

Charity brashly skipped over to a shelf where the tall dark boy she had pointed out the other day in the dining hall was standing. Half amused, Ruth watched Charity's technique as she skimmed along the shelf, picking up a book, reading a couple of lines, putting it back and picking up another until, so casually that you would have sworn it was by chance, she reached out at the exact moment and to the exact place where Fidelius was putting his book back in the shelf. Their hands touched. They smiled. Ruth could see by the movement of their lips that they were whispering.

Then Teacher Jonson swooped down and Charity was sent with the book she still had in her hand to sit in the farthest corner of the library.

And I hope it’s something too boring for words, thought Ruth. Silly idiot!

She went over to the fiction section and picked out an adventure story from the long ago days. It was called Lorna Doone, and she had already read several chapters. Now she lost herself in the adventures of the hero, John Ridd, as he climbed the cliff to find himself in the forbidden Doone Valley.

Like my dream country, she thought. Somewhere beyond the eastern mountains is a valley. And in the valley ... well, what?

She stared at the windowless walls and longed to be up in the Dome where she could see out.

“The Freedom Man danced out of the Ark

Over the hills so shady,

Into the light and out of the dark

To be with his red-haired lady.”

The tune danced maddeningly in her head. Where had it come from? Who was the Freedom Man? Someone like John Ridd? And was the red-haired lady the same person as the one she had painted? It was all very strange. She sighed and went on reading until suppertime.