“Yes, sar—certainly, sar,” said the waiter.
The hum of traffic did not cease, and the shouts of the bathers came up plainly from the surf. The Billabong party strolled along the beach in the hot dusk, and watched the heads bobbing in and out of the breakers, mysteriously seen in the streaks of light cast by the lamps on the encircling pier. Gradually the heat lessened and a pale moon climbed into the sky. They turned homeward when Norah was discovered yawning.
“Well, the sea is lovely, and all that,” Jim said, stretching his long frame as he rose. “But I think it’s loveliest when you’re off it. It’s good to feel tired again—I’m getting flabby with doing nothing on that old ship. Three weeks of solid sea certainly makes you enjoy land!”
“They hailed rickshaws, and soon were running smoothly along a wide road.”
| From Billabong to London] | [Page 194 |