Archie stopped patting the car and came over to us. "Good. Let's begin," he said; "I'm hungry."
"You didn't hear. I said there WASN'T any cake—on the contrary, there is an entire absence of it, a shortage, a vacuum, not to say a lacuna. In the place where it should be there is an aching void or mere hard-boiled eggs or something of that sort. I say, doesn't ANYBODY mind, except me?"
Apparently nobody did, so that it was useless to think of sending Archie back for it. Instead, I did a little wrist-work with the corkscrew….
"Now," said Archie, after lunch, "before you all go off with your butterfly nets, I'd better say that we shall be moving on at about half-past three. That is, unless one of you has discovered the slot of a Large Cabbage White just then, and is following up the trail very keenly."
"I know what I'm going to do," I said, "if the flies will let me alone."
"Tell me quickly before I guess," begged Myra.
"I'm going to lie on my back and think about—who do you think do the hardest work in the world?"
"Stevedores."
"Then I shall think about stevedores."
"Are you sure," asked Simpson, "that you wouldn't like me to show you that signalling now?"