He darted down to the basement, then waited before the locker door until one of the monitors came down, unlocked the door, and allowed Phin to get his hat.

But the monitor never looked at him, or spoke.
Once out of the building, Phin could keep back the choking sob and tears no longer.

Stealing down a side street, where he would have to pass few people, Phin gave way to his pent-up shame.
Yet in it all there was nothing of repentance.

He was angry with himself---in a fiendish rage toward others.
Afterwards, he learned that the books and other contents of his desk were burned in the school yard at recess, to the singing of a dirge.

But, even for the purpose of making a bonfire of his books the students would not touch the articles with their hands.