“So it is,” said Bevis. “I say, Mark—”
“Pooh!” said Mark, and with a violent shove he launched the boat, and leaped on board. He took a scull, and began to row her head round. The wind was north and light.
“I bate you,” said Charlie. “I believe you’re doing something. What’s in that box.”
“Ballast, you donk,” said Mark.
“That it isn’t, I saw it just before you shut the lid. It’s not ballast.”
“Let’s let them come,” said Bevis irresolutely.
“You awful stupe,” said Mark, under his breath. “They’ll spoil everything.”
“And why do you always sail one way?” said Val. “We’ve seen you ever so many times.”
“I won’t be watched,” said Bevis angrily: he, unconsciously, endeavoured to excuse his selfishness under rage.
“You can’t help it.”