“I’ll disown you as my brother if you listen to what he says,” Jerry appeared at Danny’s elbow.
“Oh, go away off the beach, both of you!” Hal waved the contesting pair away from him. He wished both Danny and Jerry anywhere but close at hand.
“Shan’t go a step,” defied Jerry. “Never think, Hal Macy, that you can chase me into the Atlantic Ocean. You may walk with Dan-yell, I’ve had enough of him. Go ahead and untie the Oriole. I’m going to monopolize Marvelous Marjorie for a while.” Jerry tucked an arm in one of Marjorie’s.
“Only for about five minutes,” stipulated Hal. He cast a half smiling, half challenging glance at Marjorie. “I want to talk to her myself. Come along, old Seabean,” he motioned Danny.
The two young men ran ahead to untie the motor boat belonging to Hal which was tied up at the Cliff House pier. Marjorie drew a soft little breath of relief. Hal’s significant rush of words had taken her unawares. Until now she had never failed to steer him away from anything approaching sentiment. Tonight, however, she had sensed a certain determined quality in his voice which was not to be denied. Hal did not intend to be kept from saying his say much longer.
CHAPTER II.—MUSIC AND MOONLIGHT
“I hear your voice across the years of waiting;
Out of the past it softly calls to me:
True love knows neither ebbing nor abating;
How long, dear heart, must we two parted be?”