This time there was a good deal of whispering, a kind of debate conducted with great earnestness.
“I’ll play Hop Scotch, if you like,” said Mr. Sanders; “but Dick won’t.”
“Never mind about Mr. Dick,” said the doctor. “He’ll join in when he sees how pleasant it is. You can play Hop Scotch, I suppose, Patsy?”
“I cannot,” said Patsy. “I never heard tell of it.”
“I can’t either,” said the doctor. “But it’ll be all right: Mr. Sanders will teach us.”
“I shall want a piece of chalk,” said Mr. Sanders.
“There’s no chalk here,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Will nothing else do you? What’s the chalk for?”
“I have to mark out a figure on the boards,” said Mr. Sanders.
“I’ve a small bottle of Condy’s Fluid in my bag,” said the doctor, “that I carry about with me for disinfecting my hands. You could manage with it, I dare say.”