"Be careful how you insult me, Thomas. A little more and I shall tell them what happened to you on the ornamental waters in Regent's Park that rough day."
"Really?" asked Simpson with interest.
"Yes; I fancy he had been rather overdoing it at Swedish drill that morning."
We gave her ten in silence, and then by mutual consent rested on our oars.
"There's a long way yet," said Myra. "Dahlia and I will row if you're tired."
"This is an insult, Thomas. Shall we sit down under it?"
"Yes," said Thomas, getting up; "only in another part of the boat."
We gave up our seats to the ladies (even in a boat one should be polite) and from a position in the stern waited with turned-up coat-collars for the water to come on board.
"We might have sailed up a little higher," remarked Simpson. "It's all right, I'm not a bit wet, thanks."
"It's too shallow, except at high tide," said Myra. "The Armadillo would have gone aground and lost all her—her shell. Do armadilloes have shells, or what?"