"Warm, isn't it?"
"Hot, I call it. I hope they don't go awfully far. I don't want to get all sunburned ... A boy swiped my parasol." Her grey eyes flashed in his. She was giggling with her lips apart.
"How was that?" How solemn I sound, thought Fanshaw.
"I dunno, one o' them souvenir hunters out at the Roadside Inn." She pulled down her babyish-looking hat that had blue and pink roses on it so that it shaded her eyes.
"Whew, smell that!" she cried.
"Must be a sewer, or marshgas."
"Clothespins! Clothespins!" Elise was holding her nose and wriggling in the bottom of the canoe. Then she burst into giggles again and cried: "Gee, this little girl loves the country, nit!"
"Now it's better, isn't it?"
"I want to eat. Cham's crazy to go so far."
"They've got the picnic basket, so I don't see what we can do but follow."