"However, we can always say we saw it," I reassured Myra. "From this distance you can't be certain of recognising an island you don't know. Any small cloud on the horizon will do."
"I know it on the map."
"Yes, but it looks quite different in real life. The great thing is to be able to assure Simpson at lunch that the Corsican question is now closed. When we're a little higher up, I shall say, 'Surely that's Corsica?' and you'll say, 'Not Corsica,?" as though you'd rather expected the Isle of Wight; and then it'll be all over. Hallo!
We had just passed the narrow archway leading into the courtyard of the village and were following the path up the hill. But in that moment of passing we had been observed. Behind us a dozen village children now trailed eagerly.
"Oh, the dears!" cried Myra.
"But I think we made a mistake to bring them," I said severely. "No one is prouder of our—one, two, three ... I make it eleven—our eleven children than I am, but there are times when Father and Mother want to be alone."
"I'm sorry, dear. I thought you'd be so proud to have them all with you."
"I am proud of them. To reflect that all the—one, two ... I make it thirteen—all these thirteen are ours is very inspiring. But I don't like people to think that we cannot afford our youngest, our little Philomène, shoes and stockings. And Giuseppe should have washed his face since last Friday. These are small matters, but they are very trying to a father."
"Have you any coppers?" asked Myra suddenly. "You forgot their pocket-money last week."
"One, two, three—I cannot possibly afford—one, two, three, four—— Myra, I do wish you'd count them definitely and tell mo how many we have. One likes to know. I cannot afford pocket-money for more than a dozen."