"No, no," his voice came to us, "from the knee—think of a screw—and about a six-inch stroke with your left hand—it's worth learning—makes swimming as easy as walking——"
"Show us a racing-stroke, sir——"
"Shut up, Jimmy. Is this right? It does catch your knee, though——"
"Do that dive again, sir——"
Then, when Derry judged they had had enough of it, he ordered them out. He himself did a final dash of the whole eighty yards and back again, while the water boiled behind him. Then he sought his wrap and disappeared into the house.
"He's 'some' swimmer, isn't he?" said Julia softly. She had neither spoken nor moved.
He was.
But even I could see that he knew nothing of women.
The bit of water-starwort was still in her hand. Suddenly with a little laugh she tossed it over the side.
"Oughtn't he to have some tea?" she said....