Room 222 - What ever happened to Mavis Rooster? [antikvár]

At the moment the general office at Walt Whitman High School had the appearance of a cattle pen shortly before the slaughter was to begin. There was considerable milling about. The conversation was low-toned and could easily have been mistaken for dis^ntled lowing. In fact, however, neither demise nor disaster was imminent. Nor was dissatisfaction being expressed. Another normal school day was about to begin and the milling and muttering were merely the prelude. Teachers arrived, signed in, paused for conversations with other teachers—or simply to get a second wind— then departed, heading for their classrooms or Ae teachers' lounge, or possibly for the teachers' cafeteria, where, with a little luck, they would be able to get one more cup of coffee before facing the first class of the day. Just inside the doorway to his office, the school principal, Seymour Kaufman, was in discussion with a new teacher. Kaufman was a taU, somewhat harried-looking man. He was middle-aged. Earlier in his life he had been much heavier. With effort and not without suffering he was keeping his weight close to what, for health's sake, it should be. The young man to whom Kaufman was talkmg was not at all like him in appearance. He was small and