"Are the trees out yet, Robert?"
They looked at her in silence. It was a strange thing to ask. And yet not strange at all. All day long she sat there and saw nothing but the squat, red-faced stable opposite. Or if she went out it was to buy cheaply from the barrows in a mean side street. And now she was remembering that there were trees somewhere, perhaps in bloom.
Even Miss Edwards looked queerly dashed and distressed.
"Now you're asking something, Miss Forsyth. There are trees in this little old village, but they aren't real somehow, and I never notice 'em. Well, we'll know on Monday. Please Heaven, it doesn't rain."
"I want to get out," Cosgrave muttered; "out of here—right away——"
"I've not had a picnic—not since I was a kid. But I haven't forgotten it, though. Heaps to eat—and an appetite—— Oh, my!"
"And you can go on eating and eating," Francey added greedily, "and it doesn't seem to matter."
"Egg and cress sandwiches——"
"Ham pie——"
"Sardines——"