It would hurt to let a girl help," Barbara rejoined.

"After all, you're a conventionalist, and I rather thought you were not." "Anyhow, I'm going up myself," Lister declared.
He got up, but his clothes gathered some slime from the rock and his skin was stained by soil and moss.

Barbara looked at him with a twinkle.
"Your obstinacy cost you something," she remarked.

"If you're tired, you had better stop and smoke." Lister lighted a cigarette.

She had been rather keen about rejoining the others, but he thought she had forgotten.