Ulyth started so violently that the bottle of Indian ink overturned and spread itself out in three streams.
"Oh Jemima!" shrieked Ulyth in consternation.
"Now you've done it!" exclaimed Helen angrily.

"Ink all over the page.
What a disgraceful mess! For goodness' sake stop; you're making it worse.

Give it to me." Ulyth, who was frantically mopping up the black streams with her pocket handkerchief, surrendered the book to the outraged librarian.

Nemesis had indeed descended upon her guilty head.
"You knew perfectly well that you weren't allowed to take it to-day," scolded Helen.

"You sneaked into the library and got it while I was out." "Someone else has been sneaking too," thought Ulyth, with a glance at Stephanie's face.