She crooked her finger. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. Water sprung from the corners of the school roof, turning it into a gigantic fountain.
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