But she refused to listen—she wriggled away under the bedclothes.
“What do you want, Shan’t?”
She emerged from under the bedclothes.
“I want my darlin’ Aunt Elsie.”
“But you can’t have her—she’s miles away. Would you like the kind lady who played with you on the sands?”
“She’s dead!” cried Shan’t—wailing afresh.
“No—she’s not. Look here, will you be good if I fetch her?”
“Will she bring my darlin’ crab—what was on the sands—?”
“Yes—yes—”
“W—ill—you fet-ch—her?”