“Now then, where did I leave off? Oh, yes, Constance. I take it you didn’t find her answers as amusing as I do. I’m not sure, however — perhaps you laughed while I was sleeping?” He glanced at them hopefully, but was met with blank faces. “I see. Well, perhaps you’ll find this amusing: Instead of answering the questions on the second test, she composed a long poem about the absurdity of the test and its rules, particularly about the missing fourth step — which apparently reminded her of doughnut holes, because these were the topic of a second poem. She is very irritated, it seems, that every doughnut contains a hole. She feels she is being robbed. I remember a particularly felicitous rhyme between ‘flaky bereft’ and ‘bakery theft.’ Let’s see, where was it? I have it right here. . . .” He began flipping through the test pages.
“Excuse me,” Sticky said. “Sir? How is it this girl passed the tests if she didn’t answer any of the questions? I mean, if she didn’t even try?”
“There are tests,” said Mr. Benedict, “and then there are tests.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It will all come clear presently, Sticky. Ah, here they are at last.”
The door was opening, and into the room now came Number Two, looking vexed, followed by Milligan, looking gloomy. And with them was Constance Contraire, looking very, very small.
- The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart