ix
They were immediately lost in the darkness of the Park, hidden from all, and oblivious of the flashing lamps of vehicles which drove endlessly up the broad road from Piccadilly. And Sally was in Toby's arms, straining him to her, sobbing and uttering little sounds of love and relief.
"Hullo, hullo!" cried Toby, jerking her chin up with a rough hand.
"I thought you'd never come! I thought you wouldn't come!" whispered Sally. "Oh, Toby, I thought you'd never come!" She was hysterical in her joy.
"Course I come!" exclaimed Toby. "Wodjer take me for?"
"Well, I didn't know." Sally was quite unguarded. "Thought you might have...." She checked herself. Her body was shaken with a little thrill of laughter—laughter of silly joy. She hugged him closer. "Been away a long time this time," she said. "Quite a sailor, ain't you?... Did you have rough weather? Ship all sloppy with the waves? And you dancing about to keep your feet?"
"It's always rough weather," gloried Toby. "Sea goin' all the time. But she's a daisy to keep steady. Wouldn't hardly notice you was moving."
"I'm sure!" cried Sally, ironically. "And you and the captain chatting together in the cabin, and all."
"No." Toby was condescending under chaff. "But we're quite.... Skipper, he's called. You don't call him captain. He's just like me. He's no better; only he...."
"Only he knows how to sail a boat," mocked Sally.