'Oh, isn't it beautiful and romantic, Mr Blake?'
'No doubt of that, dear; but goodness knows how many days, weeks, or months we may have to lie here.'
'And I hope it will be for quite a long, long time. What fun Wallace and I will have!'
There was a large kettle standing over the stove.
'Pray, what is in there, Lotty?' said Antony.
'Oh, that is snow cooking for tea, you know.'
And then Antony remembered that there was not a drop of water in either caravan.
'Breakfast is waiting, Mr Blake, and will soon get cold,' said Mary, bustling in.
'Come on, Lotty!' He was standing beneath the steps, the snow high above his knees, and holding out a pair of mittened hands. 'Jump into my oilskin, dear.'
'What! Have I to be carried like a baby?'