Betsy did not attempt any fancy steps, but she started on a long, energetic stride in the direction of the shrill ragtime.
She waved her hand with a gesture which she knew would check Robert’s effervescence.
He waved his cap in return.
“Where’s Mr. Irving?” she asked as soon as he could hear her.
“He’s helping Cap’n Salter with the sail. They didn’t appreciate my services, so I came away.”
“I just wanted to tell you, Mr. Nixon, that I’m goin’ to Boston.”
“Giddy creature! The whirl of the city drawing you so soon?”
“I’m goin’ to tell your mother what rooms there are at the inn, and if you have any message—”
“I have. Tell her it’s great here, and to let me know as soon as she’s through using the car, because I want to bring it down—or up.”