The snow, shutting them in, laughed at their struggles against monotony.

The nursery clock struck three and they realised that two whole hours must pass before the next meal.

Mary, her nose red from pressing on the window-pane, her eyes gazing through her huge spectacles wistfully at Jeremy, longed to suggest that she should read aloud to him.

She knew that he hated it; she pretended to herself that she did not know.
Jeremy stared desperately at Helen who was sitting, dignified and collected, in the wicker chair hemming a minute handkerchief.
"We might play Pirates," Jeremy said with a little cough, the better to secure her attention.

There was no answer.
"Or there's the hut in the wood--if anyone likes it better," he added politely.