She crept downstairs in her night-gown (it was very chilly), sat down on the carpet, and with a beating heart wished herself on the sunny shore where you can't have whooping-cough, and next moment there she was.
The sand was splendidly warm.

She could feel it at once, even through the carpet.

She folded the carpet, and put it over her shoulders like a shawl, for she was determined not to be parted from it for a single instant, no matter how hot it might be to wear.
Then trembling a little, and trying to keep up her courage by saying over and over, 'It is my DUTY, it IS my duty,' she went up the forest path.
'Well, here you are again,' said the cook, directly she saw Anthea.
'This dream does keep on!' The cook was dressed in a white robe; she had no shoes and stockings and no cap and she was sitting under a screen of palm-leaves, for it was afternoon in the island, and blazing hot.

She wore a flower wreath on her hair, and copper-coloured boys were fanning her with peacock's feathers.
'They've got the cap put away,' she said.

'They seem to think a lot of it.