Oh, for the rush of the waves,
Oh, for the cliffs where the white sea-gulls breed,
And oh, for the murmuring caves!
Here when the beacon light flashes at night,
Here when the winter winds roar,
Here when——”
“I’m out of breath,” panted the Brown Lady.
“Do stop this jigging round, and this ridiculous impromptu rhyming. You were just like this when we were here before, but being nearly a year older now you ought to know better. Here’s Mrs. Tregennis, so you must stop.”
“Mrs. Tregennis,” the Blue Lady burst forth. “Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is she here? And how long does she mean to stay?”