“They certainly will,” agreed Betty.
“They’re probably getting ready to sail now.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“We’re short-handed; I ought to be there to help,” I suggested.
“You certainly had.”
“We’d better go.”
“Oh, positively!”
And then we would forget the yacht, the imminence of sailing, everything but ourselves, for a considerable space of time. It was all a little too wonderful for me to grasp intelligently, but Betty accepted it with the woman’s genius for such events.
“I don’t understand?” I repeated over and over. “You had an understanding with George while I was knocked out, and George seemed satisfied?”
“Yes; he was satisfied, dear. He was fine enough and strong enough to be that.”