“She will, and when she drops it on that other May-day at Greenwich he will remember. Come, call your Mouldiwarp and haste away.”
“But we’ve only just come,” said Edred, “and what’s Elfrida been up to?”
“Oh, bother!” said Elfrida. “I want to know what Richard meant about our heads not being important.”
“Your heads will be most important if you wait here much longer!” said the witch sharply. “Come, shall I call the Mouldiwarp, or will you?”
“You do,” said Elfrida. “I say, Dicky, what did you mean? Do tell us—there’s a dear.”
Betty Lovell was tearing up the short turf in patches, and pulling the lumps of chalk from under it.
“Help me,” she cried, “or I shan’t be in time!” So they all helped.
“Couldn’t Dick go with us—if we have to go?” said Elfrida suddenly.
“No,” said Richard, “I’m not going to—so there!”
“Why?” Elfrida gasped, tugging at a great piece of chalk.