And now, thinking of these things, she had a thirsty eye for the opening of the door, a thirsty ear for the sound of his foot in the passage outside. But she knew he would not come quite yet, for at tea some silly discussion had arisen between him and Jim as to whether it was possible to get (with a run) from the bottom of the terrace to the lake in twelve strides. Jim had been vehement on the impossibility of it, and though Claude cordially agreed that it was a feat of which Jim was pathetically incapable, he backed himself to do it for the sum of one shilling. Even now she could hear him running along the terrace below the window, and Jim’s voice counting the strides.
Dora got up and strolled on to her balcony. The last attempt had apparently been unsuccessful, for Claude was starting again, and next moment with great strides his long legs were taking him across the grass that sloped down to the lake. This time it looked as if he would easily succeed, for the sixth leap had taken him well beyond the half-distance. The eleventh took him within a couple of yards of the edge, and next moment Dora joined in the shout of laughter that came from Jim. For it had not apparently occurred to Claude what happened next, if you leap at top speed to the margin of a lake. But he knew now, as he vanished in a fountain of spray. It was the deep end of the lake too.
Jim had collapsed altogether on the ground by the time Claude swam to shore, and Dora was equally helpless on the balcony, but by the time the involuntary bather had wrung his clothes out, Jim had recovered sufficiently to find the shilling he had lost to him.
“Oh! it was cheap at the price,” he said. “I wish it had been a florin.”
Claude walked up the terrace to the house, leaving a trail of water on the paving stones, and in a moment his dressing room door opened with a crack, and a head and naked shoulder came round the corner.
“Darling! I’ve been making a fool of myself,” he said “I must change first, and then shall I come in to read to you?”
“Yes, do,” she said, still laughing. “I saw it. I thought I should have a fit. Can’t you do it again before you change? It was too heavenly.”
“Yes, if you wish,” said he. “But I shall have to put on my wet clothes again.”
She laughed again.
“No, there would be no ‘first fine careless rapture’ the second time,” she said.