"They tell me too," she continued, "that you are standin' for the Parish
Council next month."
"Who told you?"
"Oh . . . a little bird!"
Cai did not guess at 'Bias under this description. "Well, you see, with this here Diamond Jubilee in the offing, there's a feelin' abroad that the town ought to sit up, as the sayin' is—"
"And you're the man to make it sit up!" said Mrs Bosenna gaily.
"Well now, I want you to help me."
Mrs Bosenna started, alert at once and on her guard; for the game of fence she had chosen to play with these two demanded a constant wariness.
But it seemed that for the moment Cai had no design to press his suit— or no direct design.
"It's this way," he explained. "You know the stevedores, down at the jetties, are givin' their usual Whit-Monday regatta—Passage Regatta, as some call it? Well, they've made me President this year."
"More honours?"