"That will do," said Mary.
Even in the democratic embrace of Larchmont Harbor she did not think it advisable for her employer's valet to venture into the realm of personal compliment. Besides, she was not wholly convinced of the validity of his status as a valet. For one thing, she had never heard of a valet who could swim, and by swimming she meant more than the ordinary paddling about of the average human. For Mary could swim herself and she had discovered that Pete was something more than her equal.
"Well, anyhow," he said, "you're a first-class seagoing secretary. Did you notice Mr. Marshall standing on the bridge? I think he saw us."
"I'm quite sure he did. And I believe we'd better be starting back."
"Is it a race?"
"You never can tell," said Mary, as she slid off the buoy like a seal and shot along under the surface for a dozen feet.
Pete fell in beside her and let her set the pace. It was a smart one and he did not try to take the lead; he was saving himself for the sprint. For several minutes Mary attended strictly to her work. They were reaching mid-harbor when she eased up and raised her head to take a bearing for the Sunshine. Then she ceased swimming altogether and began to tread.
"Why, where's the yacht?" she said.
Pete also paused for a survey.
"They've moved it, haven't they? Well, I'll——"