"Your riddle?" exclaimed Jessica. "But—good heavens! bother your riddle! get on with the story."
"How can I get on with it?" said Martin. "It's got there."
Joscelyn: No, no, no! oh, it's impossible! oh, I can't bear it! oh, how angry I am with you!
Martin: Dear Mistress Joscelyn, why are you so agitated?
Joscelyn: I? I am not at all agitated. I am quite collected. I only wish you were as collected, for I think you must be out of your wits. How DARE you leave this story where it is? How dare you!
Martin: Dear, dear Mistress Joscelyn, what more is there to be told?
Joscelyn: I do not care what more is to be told. Only some of it must be re-told. You must bring that girl instantly to life!
Joyce: Of course you must! And explain why she died, though she mustn't die.
Jennifer: No, indeed! and if it had to do with her black hair, you must pluck it out by the roots.
Jessica: Yes, indeed! and you must do something about the horrible pool in the Red Copse, for perhaps that is what killed her.