A murmur, almost a moan, rose and passed away, Jack had stopped whittling. Ralph went on, abruptly.
"But that's littluns' talk. We'll get that straight.
So the last part, the bit we can all talk about, is kind of deciding on the fear."
The hair was creeping into his eyes again.
"We've got to talk about this fear and decide there's nothing in it. I'm frightened myself, sometimes; only that's nonsense! Like bogies. Then, when we've decided, we can start again and be careful about things like the fire." A picture of three boys walking along the bright beach fitted through his mind. "And be happy."
