The scene was very beautiful and attracted Tom; but there were dark shadows in his mind beckoning him away—to wit, his uncle and Mrs Fidler, ready to ask him why he was in such a plight.
“It’s like taking one of the old lady’s doses of medicine,” he said to himself at last. “I’d better toss it off and get it over, so here goes.”
He walked back round the edge of the pool, and Pete must have heard him coming, but all the sign he made was to thrust one wet hand into his pocket and go on bathing himself with the other.
Tom looked on in silence for a few moments.
“I’m going now,” he said.
Pete went on splashing, and Tom hesitated.
Then—
“Face hurt much?”
Pete gave a duck with his head which was meant for an assent, and continued splashing.
“So does mine,” said Tom suddenly, “and I ache all over.”