asked the Psammead for boundless wealth, and it was getting ready
to fill the quarry with the minted gold of bright guineas -
millions of them - it had told the children to run along outside
the quarry for fear they should be buried alive in the heavy
splendid treasure. And they had run. And so it happened that they
had not had time to mark the spot where the Psammead was, with a
ring of stones, as before. And it was this thought that put such
silly expressions on their faces.

'Never mind,' said the hopeful Jane, 'we'll soon find him.'

But this, though easily said, was hard in the doing. They looked
and they looked, and though they found their seaside spades,
nowhere could they find the Sand-fairy.

At last they had to sit down and rest - not at all because they
were weary or disheartened, of course, but because the Lamb
insisted on being put down, and you cannot look very carefully
after anything you may have happened to lose in the sand if you
have an active baby to look after at the same time. Get someone to
drop your best knife in the sand next time you go to the seaside,
and then take your baby brother with you when you go to look for
it, and you will see that I am right.

The Lamb, as Martha had said, was feeling the benefit of the
country air, and he was as frisky as a sandhopper. The elder ones
longed to go on talking about the new wishes they would have when
(or if) they found the Psammead again. But the Lamb wished to
enjoy himself.