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"It's a strange thing that one day you get too much and another day too little. To- morrow there will be no Bauermann's and most likely dinner will be boiled mutton and tapioca pudding." The afternoon passed rather slowly. Hugh might be back about five o'clock, and they were too anxious to hear how he had got on to be able to settle down to any occupation.
"We live in it by day, and some of us sleep in it by night," Prue said. "You shall sleep in a hammock to-night, Mollie." After a feast of cocoa and cream-cakes at Bauermann's they got home just in time for a dinner of twice-laid and Uncle Tom's pudding, to which even Dick and Jerry could not do justice. "It's my favourite dinner, too," sighed Prudence.
He looked at his watch: "There is just time to go and have some lunch before your dinner. What would you say to cocoa and cream-cakes at Bauermann's?" This suggestion cheered away the left-behindish feeling that they all experienced as they watched that distant pear-shaped object floating in the sky.
"You are right there," said Ritter thoughtfully, lowering his glass: "It is like a pearl coming out of the throat of a swine to hear the tones from Bauermann's fingers, when he can scarce keep himself at the pianoforte, and his head rocks between his shoulders like a top falling. His sense of beauty is all that is left of him, and that seems over ripe, like a fruit left too long in the sun.
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