"Refreshments? Aren't you perfectly terrible! Of course there are—oceans of them."
"No more oceans for me," said Townsend. "Hereafter I'm going to live on shore. My sailing—flopping—days are over."
"You're too funny for anything," said Minerva. "Listen, do you see that little tent? The refreshments are all in there. There's just time before the guests all come to move everything over here. I want you boys to help me. We're going to call it the dessert island instead of the desert island. Isn't that adorable? Isn't it odd? Everyone will go into raptures over it, you see if they don't. You'll let us use your island, won't you?"
"We'll make you a present of it," said Townsend.
"My idea," said Miss Timerson, "would be to tie it to these bushes that stick out over the water. It ought to be far enough away from the—the mainland—to be romantic. How far away do you think it should be, Mr. Ripley?"
"The way I feel about it I think it should be at least two thousand miles off."
"Silly!" said Miss Daring. "Please be serious. Do you think about three yards would be romantic?"
"I never measured romance by the yard," said Townsend, "but I should think about three yards and a half of romance would be enough. If we have any left over we can give it to the discoverer. He eats it alive."
"And I'll tell you what I'll do," shouted Pee-wee; "it's an inspiration."
"Another?" Townsend asked.