A frown appeared on Edmund's face, for the first time realizing something was wrong with his sister, but it was gone the moment touched his hand.  He blinked and then nodded, glancing over Mable's head to a door on the wall opposite.

"A wash room, yeah, over there.  I suppose we are pretty soaked."  On any other day, such a fact would be accompanies by a truly sour mood from the boy, but right now there was no trace of such a thing.  Edmund stood, still holding Francis' hand, and lead him away from the table.

The wash room was half the width of the hotel room, but just as long.  There was a sink, a proper and modern toilet, and a small small tub at the far end.  Edmund made a small flourish to the room.

"Two towels coming... right up," he murmured, dropping the other's hand.  Shelved beside the sink was where they were stored and easily retrieved.  "There you go.  Ah, d'you need me to step out while you..?"