Mr. Pretty shouted a number of unintelligible and raucous commands, and the breeze immediately died away.
"Lost that nice little wind we had," he grumbled. "That means a bit of a pull back. You wouldn't like to stay out all night, sir, with the whiting biting so lovely? There's a lot of gentlemen likes to do that and come back with the sunrise."
"No, no, this lady has to get home."
Mr. Pretty shook his head reproachfully at such a lack of adventurous spirit.
"It'll be a long pull back, sir."
Indeed the lights of Spaborough did look very far away.
"Can't be helped. We must get back. How long will it take?"
"About a couple of hours, sir."
"What?"