"Yes."
And I did so.
He bent down. "Well, then, it's a—"
He broke off and looked along the beach. I looked too, but saw nothing remarkable; only Miss Norton, who lived in the cottage next but one to ours. She had Boojum, the Nortons' bull terrier, on a leash. Boojum was pulling at the leash and dragging her along as usual, and she seemed to be quite out of breath when she reached the little sandy point.
My friend, the man, told me to come on, and hurried off to meet Miss Norton. They shook hands and began to talk. I stood where I was and watched them. At last the man turned toward me and shouted:—
"Come on! Don't you want to go for a walk? We'll watch for your ship as we go."
But I shook my head. I did not intend to be drawn from my vigil as easy as that. Miss Norton did not interest me particularly—I could see her any day.
The man was apparently glad to see her; they slipped Boojum's leash, let him rush off by himself, and then started together along the sand.
He could not have had anything valuable on his ship, for he never glanced at the ocean at all.
I turned again to inspect the horizon, reflecting that it was quite different when you expected your ship to bring you a velocipede.