On the white sandy beach of Brest, two barefoot teenagers carrying wicker baskets walked briskly over the salt-white fine sand, occasionally stopping to pick up something and skillfully toss it into the narrow-mouthed basket.
The girl in a coarse cloth dress glanced at the sun beginning to set in the west, and said worriedly, "Brother, I always feel that Mr. Waku will see through your lies… Or, if we go and admit our mistake now, we might avoid punishment."
The boy's eyes fixed on two small holes in the sand, his small wooden shovel accurately digging about 20 centimeters away, and then he found an egg-sized seashell in the overturned sand.
"It's too late to admit it now. I've skipped a whole day of class." He looked at his sister and said, "Besides, he would probably remember the previous three classes too."
"But what if…"
