It was no wonder the Wicker sisters started to bicker.
All three were fed up, bored, and at a loose end.
I-spy had long lost its appeal, there were no creatures around with which to pass the time of day and all they had was each other.
The wickering started early in the day, the eldest moaning about not having enough colour in her cheeks, and the middle sister exasperated by the drabness of her attire.
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