“No, thank you.”
“Perhaps cocoa would be better,” suggested Vivienne.
“Yes,” replied Judy, “much better. Brian Camperdown says it is the least harmful of all our beverages. Do you think you could find us a pot, Stanton, to boil some water?”
“I will try,” he said, laying his hand on the door knob.
“Let us all go,” exclaimed Judy, seizing Vivienne by the hand.
Together they visited kitchen and pantries, and on their return journey were met by Mrs. Colonibel, who stared in astonishment at their burdens of a water kettle, cups and saucers, a cream jug and sugar basin, biscuits and bread and butter.
“We’re trying a cooking experiment, mamma,” said Judy. “Stanton is going to boil a book in that kettle, and Vivienne is to eat it buttered.”
“It is cocoa that we are about to make, Mrs. Colonibel,” said Vivienne; “we shall only be a short time.”
The lady smiled benevolently upon them and proceeded on her way upstairs.
“Talk to us about your beloved France, Vivienne,” pleaded Judy, a few minutes later, when they were seated around the fire drinking their cocoa. “Tell us about beautiful Touraine and the castles of the Loire. No, begin with the crowd on the Newhaven boat, Vivienne, and the Frenchwomen that had no berths and had to lie on the floor. They were deathly ill, Stanton, and cried out ‘Oh la, la, la, la, la,’ and ‘Ha yi, yi, yi, yi, yi,’ and ‘Je meurs! Tout cela va se passer’; and one of them lost her artificial teeth and couldn’t find them.”