“And very likely out of your magic wave.”
“But what could it be out of the wave?”
“I can’t think; something magic. It doesn’t matter.”
They had dinner, and then, as usual, went up on the cliff to wait for Charlie’s signal.
“I shall try and catch some perch to-morrow,” said Mark, “if there’s any wind. We’re always eating the same thing.”
“Every day,” said Bevis, “and the cooking is the greatest hatefulness ever known.”
“Takes up so much time.”
“Makes you hot and horrid.”
“Vile.”
“It wants Frances, as I said.”