“They are getting washed fro-om with-h-in-hin-out-hout-ward,” sobbed Mabel. “I ne-hever expec-hected to get boi-hoiled.”
“Don’t you mind, darling,” comforted Charlie, who was still panting but was happy to be alive after such an experience. “Here’s a moonstone I found buried in my ear. A beauty too! I’m going to have it set in a ring for you. I’ve heard there were lovely moonstones on this beach, but I never expected to pick up one by ear.”
“I’m hun-un-gry,” said Mabel, her sobs letting up somewhat. “When I get scared, I always get hungry. Maybe it is the ‘boiling’ that made me think about food.”
“Of course,” said Charlie, indulgently. “I’m kind of hungry too. I tell you what you do: you and Jane wait here and Breck and I’ll go forage and bring us back a light lunch. We’ll pick up the rest of the crowd on the way.”
“Not too light,” admonished Mabel.
Breck looked sadly at Jane. There seemed to be no place where he could go and have a quiet little love-making with his sweetheart. Why should Charlie and Mabel come and be ‘boiled’ near their dune of refuge? And why should he have to go hunt food for Mabel? But Jane gave him a bright little nod of admonition and there was nothing for him to do but comply. He leant over and whispered to her:
“Don’t go in the water while I am away. Please promise me!”
And she laughingly promised.