“And better hand all your nasty bits of jewellery and watches to Iris.”
“’Ere’s towels,” said a miserable voice.
The canoe rocked beneath us. At our end soft things dropped to our feet, got in the way. Never was so dark and still a night. It was a relief taking off even the white flannels.
“Any swimming to be done,” said Guy, “to be done in a straight line between this and the other bank. First man or woman who disobeys gets a crack on the head (a) from the bridge over there and (b) from me.”
“This wing’s getting a bit crowded,” sighed Hugo. “It’s a blessing we’re not French and haven’t nice warm underclothes as well.”
The glow of her cigarette lit Iris’s mouth and eyes....
“I got one foot in the water,” she said at large.
“Taking the edge off our bathing!” Dear Hugo....
“Now, wot’s all this about bathing?” said a Voice.
“Police! Puss, puss!”