‘Oh, it took Ben Bogey all of half an hour on the long-distance telephone — he just described you and the car — a cinch, with those red fenders. We’ve known where you were for three-four days now, but we thought we’d let you enjoy yourselves and imagine you’d made a getaway. But now . . . You promised Ben to let us have some more capital, and we need it pretty bad. And we got a chance for the contract on a new development, Capitola Lodge, but the owners want to talk to you.’

‘And the cook has quit — and I swear I don’t know why — I gave her so much attention,’ said Sara.

‘And Annabel is awfully worried about you two getting rheumatism here.’

‘And I had to go to the Rochester tournament without any chaperon — oh, that was so thoughtless of you!’

‘And Cal Tillery had a run-in with Paul Popple, and he thinks, and so do I, you ought to take a look at the way Popple tries to run things.’

‘And Louise Kamerkink says you promised to go to dinner there last Thursday.’

‘And Popple’s got some papers for you to sign — he’s simply going nuts.’

‘And everybody’s talking — wondering whatever possessed you.’

‘And Annabel says that her father says that he knows this dump, and why didn’t you go to the King’s Arms?’

‘And the way I’ve had to lie to people, and I hate to lie except when it’s necessary, and the Coheeze bills are still coming in, and not one word from Gene Silga. The double-crosser! Honestly, I hate to say it, but don’t you think it was a little thoughtless of you?’

‘And of course, after all, Sara and Bell and I are only kids, and we’ve done our best to carry on, but . . . I’d never think of trying to tell you your duty, but . . .’

‘Well, I would! Honestly, my dears, I wish I could get the picture. What is it? Brave bold pioneers, right out of the movies, returned to the simple days of our forefathers, when men were men and never bathed, and the brats weren’t demanding, like Howard and me, but always did what they were told to, and ploughed before breakfast, and walked six miles to the li’l’ red schoolhouse and liked it?’

‘Grrrrr!’ said Fred.

Sara was laughing in quite a well-bred, filial manner as she went on:

‘Darlings, I do wish I could see you as tanned and resolute frontiersmen, but I just don’t; I see you as pretty pale and overweight, and — do forgive me — in terrible shape for lack of exercise. You’d have done much better, in my humble opinion, if you’d stayed home and seen Dr. Kamerkink and dieted and played golf. And, honestly, I don’t think a pre-Civil–War nightshirt is such a romantic garment! And your dear li’l’ hide-away — rather damp, isn’t it? And DID they have to go and give it a name like “William Tyler Longwhale”?’