"There's a chap swimming out there, I see."
He pointed to where a wet, dark head bobbed up and down like a cork beyond
reach of the waves that reared themselves up to an immense height before
they crashed down in a flurry of whirling foam on the beaten shore.
"Tough work, though," replied Robin. "There's the deuce of a current
running over there, and Ann's not an experienced enough swimmer to tackle
a drag like that."
Ann's face had fallen. The idea of foregoing her daily plunge did not
commend itself to her in the least.
"I don't see why I can't have a dip--just get wet, you know," she
remonstrated wistfully.
"You mustn't think of such a thing!" came in quick, imperative tones.
Startled, she turned round to find Forrester standing at her elbow, with
Cara Hilyard beside him. Amid the hurly-burly of noise created by the
breakers she had not noticed the sound of their approach.
"Do you hear?" he repeated. "You mustn't think of bathing to-day."
Ann's head went up. The imperious speech, uttered as though it were a
foregone conclusion that she would meekly obey its mandate, roused her to
instant opposition.
"But I _am_ thinking of it," she replied, masking her irritation beneath
an outward assumption of calm.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203