Cat Among the Pigeons. Агата Кристи

      Miss Bulstrode’s eyebrows rose in patient surprise.

      ‘Her—well—her bust bodice.’

      ‘What is wrong with her brassière?’

      ‘Well—it isn’t an ordinary kind—I mean it doesn’t hold her in, exactly. It—er—well it pushes her up—really quite unnecessarily.’

      Miss Bulstrode bit her lip to keep back a smile, as so often when in colloquy with Miss Johnson.

      ‘Perhaps I’d better come and look at it,’ she said gravely.

      A kind of inquest was then held with the offending contraption held up to display by Miss Johnson, whilst Shaista looked on with lively interest.

      ‘It’s this sort of wire and—er—boning arrangement,’ said Miss Johnson with disapprobation.

      Shaista burst into animated explanation.

      ‘But you see my breasts they are not very big—not nearly big enough. I do not look enough like a woman. And it is very important for a girl—to show she is a woman and not a boy.’

      ‘Plenty of time for that. You’re only fifteen,’ said Miss Johnson.

      ‘Fifteen—that is a woman! And I look like a woman, do I not?’

      She appealed to Miss Bulstrode who nodded gravely.

      ‘Only my breasts, they are poor. So I want to make them look not so poor. You understand?’

      ‘I understand perfectly,’ said Miss Bulstrode. ‘And I quite see your point of view. But in this school, you see, you are amongst girls who are, for the most part, English, and English girls are not very often women at the age of fifteen. I like my girls to use make-up discreetly and to wear clothes suitable to their stage of growth. I suggest that you wear your brassière when you are dressed for a party or for going to London, but not every day here. We do a good deal of sports and games here and for that your body needs to be free to move easily.’