“I will not have everyone out in the cold!” Mrs. M’s hands were planted firmly on her hips, and when Mrs. M’s hands were firmly on her hips, any who knew what was good for them knew to nod submissively, back up slowly, and give up.
Sometimes I wondered if he had no survival reflexes or if he confronted the headmistress exactly because he didn’t care to survive.
“We don’t have to be out, out,” he argued.
Mrs. M’s cheek twitched. Oh-oh.
I backed up just in case. If she reached for the switch it would be best to not remain within wingspan.
“We can use the hot-house,” he pressed. “Sunlight and no wind. We’ll be fine.”
The twitch stopped. I held my breath.
“Most panes are intact.”
Mrs. M nodded.
Cramped orphanage or not, he found a way for outdoor play in wintertime!