"Phyllis behaved heroically that night; made up for all the past—though really she'd done that before."
"I'm glad you feel that way," murmured Ramsey and suddenly asked: "Why did you take my father to your room just now?"
"To show him the plans for another boat."
"Humph!" What crystalline honesty was in his answers, she pondered. They were as prompt as a mirror's.
"Rivals," she remarked, "don't ordinarily show plans."
"Your father and I are not ordinary rivals."
What did that mean? Her, and not mere boats' plans? She did not look at him this time. Like "California" she could see without looking. "Think I'll rejoin the Gilmores," she sighed, as certain couples came up to see the Antelope go by. She feared a recurrence of "'Lindy Lowe." On the way to the pilot-house she leisurely inquired:
"Do you think you'll ever build a finer boat than this?"
"Yes, and larger, and faster."
"Not this season?"