My story isn’t boring you, is it, Miss Lea?“ I endured a number of such comments the following day as, unable to suppress my yawns, I fidgeted and rubbed my eyes while listening to Miss Winter’s narration.

‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.“

‘Tired!“ she exclaimed. ”You look like death warmed up! A proper meal would put you right. Whatever’s the matter with you?“

I shrugged my shoulders. “Just tired. That’s all.”

She pursed her lips and regarded me sternly, but I said nothing more, and she took up her story.

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