"What?"
"We must get up and run about a little now. It's too cold to sit still so long, and if we get cold, nurse won't let us come out alone again."
Up jumped Carrots on to his sturdy little legs. "I'll run, Floss," he said.
"Floss," he began, when they stopped to take breath again, "once I saw a little boy with a hoop. It went so nice on the sands. I wish I had a hoop, Floss."
"I wish you had, dear," said Floss. "I'd buy you one, if I had any money. But I haven't, and we couldn't ask mamma, because I know," and Floss shook her head mysteriously, "I know poor mamma hasn't any money to spare. I must think of a plan to get some."
Carrots kept silence for about three quarters of a minute. "Have you thinkened, Floss?" he asked, eagerly.
"Thought," gravely said Floss, "not thinkened, what about?"
"About a plan," replied Carrots. He called it "a pan," but Floss understood him.
"Oh, dear, no," said Floss, "not yet. Plans take a great lot of thinking. They're real things, you see, Carrots, not like fancies about fairies and Sybil coming."
"But when Sybil does come, that'll be real then," said Carrots.