"No-o."
"That is strange."
"Where is the oven?"
"There isn't any on this stove. Hadn't you discovered that yet, you silly?"
"No—oven?" repeated Buster.
"No. No oven."
"Then I've mixed my custard for nothing?"
"I am afraid you have unless you can turn the mixture to some other purpose."
Margery stared at Harriet in silence, then carefully setting the dish on the little shelf above the stove she sat down on the floor and burst into tears.
Harriet left her frying pan, and, taking Buster firmly by an arm, lifted the girl to her feet and led her out to the after deck.