"Are you aware that we are marriageable?" inquired Anna-Rose icily.
"And don't you think it's bad enough for us to be aliens and undesirables," asked Anna-Felicitas, "without getting chronologically confused as well?"
Mr. Twist was quiet for a bit. He couldn't compete with the Twinklers when it came to sheer language. He sat hunched on his rock, his face supported by his two fists, staring out to sea while the twins watched him indignantly. School indeed! Then presently he pushed his hat back and began slowly to rub his ear.
"Well, I'm blest if I know what to do with you, then," he said, continuing to rub his ear and stare out to sea.
The twins opened their mouths simultaneously at this to protest against any necessity for such knowledge on his part, but he interrupted them. "If you don't mind," he said, "I'd like to resume this discussion when you're both a little more composed."
"We're perfectly composed," said Anna-Felicitas.
"Less ruffled, then."
"We're quite unruffled," said Anna-Rose.
"Well, you don't look it, and you don't sound like it. But as this is important I'd be glad to resume the discussion, say, to-morrow. I suggest we spend to-day exploring the neighbourhood and steadying our minds—"
"Our minds are perfectly steady, thank you."