uld not accept the responsibility.

"Well, I don't admire your taste," said Nancy contemptuously. "No, and I
don't admire your get-up," she went on. "Did you pick those canes up on
the beach, what?"

"We bought them," said Michael, rather affronted.

"My goodness," said Nancy. "What dreadful-looking things. I say,
Michael, you're in a fair way towards looking like a thorough young
bounder. Don't you come to Cobble Place with that button on your hat.
Well, don't let me disturb you. Cut off to the Camera Obscura with
Gertie and Evangeline. I don't expect I'm smart enough for you two."

"We don't particularly want to go with those girls," said Michael,
looking down at his boots, very red and biting his under-lip. Alan was
blushing too and greatly abashed.

"Well," said the relentless Nancy, "it's a pity you don't black your
faces, for I never saw two people look more like nigger minstrels. Where
_did_ you get that tie? No wonder my sister feels bad. That belt of
yours, Michael, would give a South Sea Islander a headache. Go on, hurry
off like good little boys," she jeered. "Flossie and Cissie are waiting
for you."

Michael could not help admitting, as he suffered this persiflage from
Nancy, that Dora and Winnie did look rather common, and he wished they
would not stand, almost within earshot, giggling and prodding each
other. Then suddenly Michael began to hate Dora and the quadruple
intrigue was broken up.

"I say, Alan," he said, looking up again, "let's bung these sticks into
the sea. They're rotten sticks."

Alan at once threw his as far as it would go and betted Michael he would
not beat the distance. So Michael's stick followed its companion into
oblivion. Nancy was great sport, after all, as both boys admitted, and
when Michael grazed his finger very slightly on a barnacled rock, he
bandaged it up with his silk tie. Very soon he discovered the cut was
not at all serious, but he announced the tie was spoilt and dipped it
casually into a rock pool, where it floated blatantly among the anemones
and rose-plumed seaweed. Alan's tie vanished less obtrusively: no one
noticed when or where. As for the buttons inscribed with mottoes they
became insignificant units in the millions of pebbles on the beach.

Nancy was great sport and ready to do whatever the boys suggested in the
way of rock-climbing and walking, provided they would give her due
notice, so that she could get into a hockey skirt and thick shoes. They