“Then I’ll say good-bye. Glad I was near to help you out. Glad to see you again if you like to give me a call in town.”
“Where are you going?”
“Going? Back to London as fast as I can.”
“And what for, sir?”
“To read up all the yachting news, and see where The Fair Star puts in, and then run down and give Master Glyddyr a bit of my mind.”
“Stop—an hour—two hours.”
“What for?”
“Till I get back my dress all a dry. I go back wiz you.”
“Oh, certainly, if you wish it; but I wouldn’t; you had better stop here and rest for a few days—a week. I’ll write and tell you all I find out.”
“I go back wiz you,” said the woman decidedly. And she kept her word, for in two hours they caught a train.