“Why, yes,” I said, “he gave me five shillings.”
“And he gave me the same.”
“And me the same,” said Charley.
“You’ll have to pay us back your share of the grub to-morrow,” said Alex; “but we bought it beforehand.”
“Well, we can’t cook without cooking things,” I said.
“Sakes!” replied Alex; “do you suppose that while you were wandering about London by yourself—highly improper for any young lady, I call it—that we were idle? Charley and Von Marlo and I went down into the kitchen and purloined a frying-pan, a saucepan, a kettle, cups and saucers, glasses, knives and forks galore, and plates. Table-cloths don’t matter. Now then, to see the array of eatables.”
Alex produced out of his bag first of all, in a dirty piece of paper, a skinned rabbit, next a pound of sausages, next a parcel of onions.
“These will make a jolly good fry,” said Alex, smacking his lips as he spoke.
From Charley’s pockets came a great piece of butter, while Von Marlo rid himself of a huge incubus in the shape of a loaf of very fresh bread.
“There are lots of things beside,” said Charley: “potatoes—we’re going to fry them after the rabbit and sausages—and fruit and cakes. We thought if we had a good, big, monstrous fry, and then satisfied the rest of our appetites with cake and fruit, as much as ever we can eat, that we’d do.”