“Heaven knows! Just as likely they won’t.”
My cousin meditated on the veranda tiles for a space.
“It amuses me,” said Fred Bunting.
“Look here,” said my cousin Melville, “what am I supposed to do? Why have I been asked to come?”
“I don’t know. Stir it up a bit, I expect. Everybody do a bit—like the Christmas pudding.”
“But—” said Melville.
“I’ve been bathing,” said Fred. “Nobody asked me to take a hand and I didn’t. It won’t be a good pudding without me, but there you are! There’s only one thing I can see to do——”
“It might be the right thing. What is it?”
“Punch Chatteris’s head.”
“I don’t see how that would help matters.”