"As if keys mattered anyhow!" put in Sandy. "Anyone can climb over that wanted to. It's the nearest way."
"But it's private ground, not a public path. Only the General was kind to you."
"Yes, and this man's a beast," viciously.
Then he went on, with a pretty little lisp between the two lost teeth left on a field of battle: "But we've had some fun all these weeks, mother, dodging the work-people. They couldn't find out how we got in and out," delightedly, "even when we forgot the keys; there's always holes, somewhere. We didn't let 'em know; we just 'peared, and walked past the house, riling them. And if they ran us, didn't we just dodge 'em down the hill!"
"And now he says," put in David, "that he's written to father, and that he'll have no trespassing. Trespassing, indeed!"
"An' Dave called back that he was the trespasser, 'trudin' where he wasn't wanted," said Sandy gleefully, "an' that he'd better go back to Blackton, an' not fink he could come here and be a gentleman, cos no one would look at him!"
"Oh, David," said his mother reproachfully, "how could you? He will think we don't grow gentlemen here."
"Don't care for his thinks," muttered David. "Heard Charity and Mrs. Lytchett say it."
"No, David," put in Marjorie. "Charity said anyone from Blackton would feel like an intrusion, and all Mrs. Lytchett said was, that if he didn't like it he could always go back."
"That's exactly what I said, too, on'y the words came different."