Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard . " Marge's ill, " he informed Aunt Petunia. " Ate a funny whelk. --."
There are rope walks, and washing that flaps on waggling lines above banks of stony shingle, littered with seaweed, whelk shells and dead crabs—very different from Aunt Porcas's clothes-lines over the clean green grass.