they would look lying on the green-and-pink blanket of silk-waste that now covered Jim's poor broken leg.
"Hurry up," said Peter, "or we shall miss the 9.15!"
"I can't hurry more than I am doing," said Phyllis. "Oh, bother it! my bootlace has come undone again!"
"When you're married," said Peter, "your boot-lace will come undone going up the church aisle, and your man that you're going to get married to will tumble over it and smash his nose in on the ornamented pavement; and then you'll say you won't marry him, and you'll have to be an old maid."
"I shan't," said Phyllis. "I'd much rather marry a man with his nose smashed in than not marry anybody."
"It would be horrid to marry a man with a smashed nose, all the same," went on Bobbie. "He wouldn't be able to smell the flowers at the wedding. Wouldn't that be awful!"
"Bother the flowers at the wedding!" cried Peter. "Look! the signal's down. We must run!"
They ran. And once more they waved their
