We've waved so often before.

Anyway, let's get down." They got down the steep stairs.

Bobbie was pale and shivering.

Peter's face looked thinner than usual.

Phyllis was red-faced and damp with anxiety.
"Oh, how hot I am!" she said; "and I thought it was going to be cold; I wish we hadn't put on our--" she stopped short, and then ended in quite a different tone--"our flannel petticoats." Bobbie turned at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, yes," she cried; "THEY'RE red! Let's take them off." They did, and with the petticoats rolled up under their arms, ran along the railway, skirting the newly fallen mound of stones and rock and earth, and bent, crushed, twisted trees.