Ambrose was silenced.

For a long time neither spoke.
Little by little the angry red faded out of Peter's cheeks and neck, and his forehead smoothed itself.

Stealing a glance at young Ambrose, the blue eyes began to twinkle.
"Say!" he said suddenly.
Ambrose twisted petulantly and muttered in his throat.
"Stick out your tongue!" commanded Peter.
Ambrose stared at him in angry stupefaction.

"What the deuce--" "No," said Peter, "you're not sick.

Your eyeballs is as clean as new milk; your skin is as pink as a spanked baby.