“Of course. I couldn't imagine what it could be, and I was curious, naturally.”
“Ruth!”
“I was.”
“Nonsense! You knew what it must be. Surely you did. Now, truly, didn't you? Didn't you, dear?”
“Why should I? . . . Oh, your sleeve is wet. You're soaking wet from head to foot.”
“Well, I presume that was to be expected. This water out here is remarkably damp, you know, and I was in it for some time. I should have been in it yet if it hadn't been for you.”
“Don't!” with a shudder, “don't speak of it. When I saw you fall into that tide I . . . But there! you mustn't stay here another moment. Go home and put on dry things. Go at once!”
“Dry things be hanged! I'm going to stay right here—and look at you.”
“You're not. Besides, I am wet, too. And I haven't had my breakfast.”
“Haven't you? Neither have I.” He forgot that he had attempted to have one. “But I don't care,” he added recklessly. Then, with a flash of inspiration, “Why can't we breakfast together? Invite me, please.”