"What a jolly taste!" she exclaimed.
And then Nellie bit at it.
"Oh! It's just lovely!" said Nellie softly.
"Here, dear!" said Ruth. "Try it."
And Denry had to try it, and to pronounce it a delicious novelty (which indeed it was) and generally to brighten himself up. And all the time he was murmuring in his heart, "This can't go on."
Nevertheless he was obliged to admit that it was he who had invited Ruth to pass the rest of her earthly life with him, and not vice versa.
"Well, shall we go on somewhere else?" Ruth suggested.
And he paid yet again. He paid and smiled, he who had meant to be the masterful male, he who deemed himself always equal to a crisis. But in this crisis he was helpless.
They set off down the pier, brilliant in the brilliant crowd. Everybody was talking of wrecks and lifeboats. The new lifeboat had done nothing, having been forestalled by the Prestatyn boat; but Llandudno was apparently very proud of its brave old worn-out lifeboat which had brought ashore the entire crew of the Hjalmar, without casualty, in a terrific hurricane.
"Run along, child," said Ruth to Nellie, "while uncle and auntie talk to each other for a minute."