This left me even more worried and the knot in my stomach had grown into a coiled rope. I now knew that the Headmaster’s study was on the first floor of the old main building. This was a fine, oak-paneled Victorian country mansion converted to a school before the First World War. Anxiously I ascended the wooden staircase, passing paintings of previous Headmasters and other school dignitaries, and found the school secretary’s office, which through which was access to the Headmaster’s study.
I knocked on the door and his secretary, Miss Evans, who was a very prim and proper woman, looked up from her typing and said.