“No, you don’t,” agreed Dick. “You’ve got as much spunk as any boy — much more than that other kid had. I’m sorry I sent her flying now. It’s the first time I’ve ever hit a girl, and I hope it’ll be the last.”

“I’m jolly glad you hit her,” said George. “She’s a nasty little beast. If I see her again I’ll tell her what I think of her.”

“No, you won’t,” said Dick. “Not if I’m there, anyway. She had her punishment when I sent her flying.”

“Do shut up arguing, you two,” said Anne, and sent a shower of sand over them. “George, don’t go into one of your moods, for goodness’ sake — we don’t want to waste a single day of this two weeks.”

“Here’s the ice-cream man,” said Julian, sitting up and feeling for the waterproof pocket in the belt of his bathing trunks. “Let’s have one each.”

“Woof,” said Timmy, and thumped his tail on the sand.

“Yes, all right — one for you, too,” said Dick. “Though what sense there is in giving you one, I don’t know. One lick, one swallow, and it’s gone. It might be a fly for all you taste of it.”

Timmy gulped his ice-cream down at once and then went into George’s hole, squeezing beside her, hoping for a lick of her ice, too. But she pushed him away.

“No, Timmy. Ice-cream’s wasted on you! You can’t even have a lick of mine. And do get back into your hole — you’re making me frightfully hot.”

Timmy obligingly got out and went into Anne’s hole. She gave him a little bit of her ice-cream. He sat panting beside her, looking longingly at the rest of the ice. “You’re melting it with your hot breath,” said Anne. “Go into Julian’s hole now!”

The five of them had a thoroughly lazy morning. As none of them had a watch they went in far too early for lunch, and were shooed out again by Joan.

“How you can come in at ten past twelve for a one o’clock lunch, I don’t know!” she scolded. “I haven’t even finished the housework yet.”

“Well — it felt like one o’clock,” said Anne, disappointed to find there was so long to wait. Still, when lunch-time came, Joan really did them well.

“Cold ham and tongue — cold baked beans — beetroot — crisp lettuce straight from the garden — heaps of tomatoes — cucumber — hard-boiled egg!” recited Anne in glee.

“Just the kind of meal I like,” said Dick, sitting down. “What’s for pudding?”

“There it is on the sideboard,” said Anne. “Wobbly blancmange, fresh fruit salad and jelly. I’m glad I’m hungry.”

“Now don’t you give Timmy any of that ham and tongue,” Joan warned George. “I’ve got a fine bone for him. Coming, Timmy?”

Timmy knew the word ‘bone’ very well indeed. He trotted after Joan at once, his feet sounding loudly in the hall. They heard Joan talking kindly to him in the kitchen as she found him his bone.