Her place at table was between two girls who utterly ignored her presence, and did not address a single remark to her.

Each talked diligently to the neighbor on either side, but poor Irene seemed an insulator in the electric current of conversation, and had perforce to eat her meal in dead silence.

She was walking away afterwards in a most depressed condition of mind, when at the door some one touched her on the arm.
"You're wanted in the senior recreation room," said a brisk voice.
"Rachel has convened a general meeting and told me to tell you.

So hurry up and don't keep folks waiting.

We want to get off to tennis." Marveling why her actions should hinder the tennis of the rest of the community, Irene obeyed the message, and presented herself in the room where she had been introduced on her arrival.