"Oh, Bobbie," she said, "how dreadful if we had missed it! You must simply run!" Robert sprang to his feet in a moment.
"Give me a shilling," he said.

"I'll make it up as I go along.

Keep some tinned pears for me." "I'll come too," said Jack, and off they bolted.
They reached the post-office just in time to despatch this message: "Avory Gables Chiswick just finished glorious brisket all well love." On their return Robert and Jack found washing-up in full swing, and were not sorry to be able to eat their pears in comfort and watch the others being busy.
The light was now going fast; the bats flitted over their heads, and there was no sound save the talking and clattering of the washers-up and the grinding of Diogenes's teeth on the brisket bone.

Various projects for spending the last hours of the day had been talked of, but now that it was here no one seemed to have the slightest energy left either to walk into Blenheim Park or cross the three or four fields to Blackett's.

In fact, they wanted but one thing, and that was to creep into their very novel beds and see what it was like to sleep like gipsies.
Everything was therefore put ready for breakfast.