"Perhaps you like people better than you like places," Mrs. Graham said.
"I don't know," he replied. "I hadn't thought about that."
"You must come again to Boveyhayne. Perhaps, in the summer, Gilbert and Roger will come, too!"
Henry thought that that would be awf'lly jolly....
They turned down the village street and left Peggy at the foot of it while they went down the slope leading on to the beach where the trawlers were now being hauled up by the aid of hand winches. Henry could see Mary and Ninian in the group of fishermen who were working the nearest winch. They had hold of one of the wooden bars and were helping to push it round.
"We'll go down to the boats," said Mrs. Graham, "and see the fish!"
She put her hand on his shoulder, and he helped to steady her as they walked across the shingle to where the boats were slowly climbing out of the sea over wooden runners on to the high stones.
One of the boats had already been hauled up, and the fishermen, having thrown out their gear, were now getting ready to sell their fish. They threw out a heap of skate and dun-cows,[1] and auctioned them to the dealers standing by.
"They're still alive," Henry whispered to Mrs. Graham as he watched the dun-cows curling their bodies and the skate gasping in the air. He looked over the side of the trawler and saw baskets of dabs and plaice and some soles and turbot and a couple of crabs. A plaice flapped helplessly and fell off the heap in the basket on to the bottom of the boat, and one of the fishermen trod on it.... "They're all alive," Henry said, turning again to Mrs. Graham.
"Yes," she answered.