"You aren't in The Spectator office now, Simpson," said Archie severely, as he fished with the boat-hook. "There is a time for ballyragging. By the way, I suppose you do want it back again?"
"It's my fault," I confessed remorsefully; "I told him yesterday I didn't like it."
"Myra and I do like it, Mr Simpson. Please save it, Archie."
Archie let it drip from the end of the boat-hook for a minute, and then brought it in.
"Morning, Sir Thomas," I said, saluting it as it came on board. "Lovely day for a sail. We've got the new topmast up, but Her Grace had the last of the potted-meat for lunch yesterday."
Simpson took his cap and stroked it tenderly. "Thirteen and ninepence in the Buckingham Palace Road," he murmured. "Thanks, old chap."
Quiet settled down upon the good ship Armadillo again. There was no cloud in the sky, no ripple on the water, no sound along the deck. The land was hazy in the distance; hazy in the distance was public-house, church, post-office, walled-in kitchen-garden and tennis-court. But in the little cabin Joe was making a pleasant noise with plates….
"Splendid," said Archie, putting down his glass and taking out his pipe. "Now what shall we do? I feel full of energy."
"Then you and Simpson can get the dinghy out and tow," I suggested.
"I'll coach from the Armadillo."
"We might go for a long bicycle ride," said Myra; "or call on the
Vicarage girls."