“And for us?” cries Peter, making a trumpet of her hands, as she travels past at sixty miles an hour. And just catches his shouted reply, wind-borne: “For us it is always to-morrow!”
“But it can’t be to-morrow without a to-day, can it?” argues Merle, returning refreshed from the ‘Benison.’
“Why, yes; it can be the-day-after-to-morrow from yesterday!”
... The housemaid tapped, and entered with the hot water.
“Shall I light the gas, Miss?”
“Yes, please;” Peter’s voice seemed to come from very far away.
While the housemaid hunted for the matches, a figure rose nonchalantly from the floor, and stole out into the passage. So that the flare of light revealed merely two sleepy-eyed girls lying across the bed.
CHAPTER X
CARN TREWOOFA
Stuart solved the riddle which lay in the personality of Mine Host, by declaring that whereas in summer he followed the fair and guileless calling of hotel-keeper, in winter a bolder voice summoned him forth, and he threw off his disguises, and donned ear-rings, and became a Corsair. And indeed there was that about him of jolly rakish raffish swagger, a roll in his gait, and a ruddiness of visage, and withal a disposition to solemn winking of the left eye, and a tendency to be found in odd moments dancing strange dances the length of his own hall, which gave to such a suggestion a flavour of likelihood.