“I don’t know exactly,” Arden continued, “but that’s how I feel. It’s very merry. How do you feel?”
“I feel like a chocolate nut sundae,” Sim answered, making a wry face.
“You’re a little cross, too. What’s the trouble?” Arden asked.
“Oh, nothing. But I’m thinking, if we do get a northeaster, there won’t be any bathing for days. I think I’ll go in today just to get a swim before it comes,” Sim answered. “Look at that,” she continued, pointing to the little weather vane on the garage roof.
It was quivering in the wind and pointing due northeast. A brave morning sun was trying to pierce the leaden clouds, but not making much headway.
A week before, Arden had seen the second mysterious caller drive away in his car after tying up their boat. Since then they had neither seen nor heard from Dimitri, and in an orgy of swimming and sunbathing had almost forgotten about him, so perfect had the weather been and so completely had the girls enjoyed it.
Now Sim and Arden were in their room making plans for the day, and Terry, in gay bathrobe and slippers, strolled in to talk things over before breakfast.
“Don’t go in today, Sim, there’s bound to be a bad undertow; and besides, I have to go to town,” Terry remarked as she had heard Sim’s decision.
“But the tide will be coming in, and I’ll only take a short dip. I’ll be ready when you want to go. Let’s eat now, and by the time we have our rooms in order I can go in for a swim. Then we’ll drive to the village. How’s that?” Sim asked, smiling.
“You seem to have it all planned. I suppose it’s all right. It’s nearly ten now, so let’s go down for breakfast,” Terry suggested. “I’m hungry.”