Flora seized the coaming and the white wave from the steamer's paddles lifted the yacht. Red Rose plunged violently and when she steadied, the passenger boat was slowing near the pier. Flora put down the glasses and turned to Wyndham. She had seen the little man on the bench and imagined Harry was studying him. The fellow looked like a foreigner and she did not like his face. Yet it was strange his being on board the steamer had annoyed Harry. She thought it had annoyed him, although the need to warn her about the wash perhaps accounted for the sharpness of his voice.
"I saw all I wanted," Wyndham resumed, with a touch of grimness. "I thought you might drop the glasses when the wave struck us. If I wasn't lazy, I'd send a complaint to the office about their driving their boats full speed across a yacht anchorage. Has the splash hurt your dress?"
Flora looked down and shook the sparkling drops from the thin material.
"This stuff won't spoil. A dress that will spoil is no use for yachting; I've been to sea before."
Soon afterwards the others returned. They had promised to lunch with Chisholm at the hotel where Flora and Mabel had a room, but by and by Wyndham remarked:
"I feel rather dull and think I won't go ashore. Perhaps you had better stay, Bob, and we'll fit the new rigging screws. The others look as if the hooks might draw in a hard breeze."
"Stay if you like," said Flora. "You have come for a holiday. Are you sure you feel equal to our climb in the morning?"
Wyndham hesitated. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but I am lazy. I found the scramble up the big gully hard enough the last time I went along the ridge, and I hadn't been to Africa then. After close work in an office, three thousand feet and some awkward rock climbing is a stiff pull."
Flora looked at the others. Harry was tired and rather slack, and she wanted to indulge him. It was something of a relief when Marston played up.
"We came for a cruise, not to climb hills," he said. "Let's stop and go fishing in the dinghy."