"No. Stick the things in your pocket and come on."
Frank made no answer. He went to the hedge and drew out a long supple twig of hazel, stripped it of its leaves, and once more tried, with it, to tie up his parcel. But the angle was too acute, and just as the twig tightened satisfactorily it snapped, and this time the razor slid out sideways into a single minute puddle that lay on the path.
The Major snorted in mirthful impatience.
"But—"
"Kindly let me alone," said Frank icily. "The thing's got to go like this, or not at all."
He drew out the razor from the puddle, opened it and dried the blade on his sleeve. During the process Gertie moved suddenly, and he looked up. When he looked down again be perceived that he had slit a neat slice into the cloth of his jacket.
He remained quite still for one moment. Then he sat down on the bank, and examined the twine once more.
The Major began to make slightly offensive comments. Then Frank looked up.
"You can go to hell!" he said quite softly, "or anywhere else you like. But I'm going to do up the bundle in my way and not yours."