“I think I had the best of it,” I remarked. “All the melody and none of the temperature.”
Hortense saw no need of noticing me further
“The singer has the worst of it,” said Gazza.
“But since you all sang!” I laughed.
“Miss Rieppe, she is cool,” continued Gazza. “And she danced. It is not fair.”
John contributed nothing. He was by no means playing up now. He was looking away at the shore.
Gazza hummed a little fragment. “But after lunch I will sing you good music.”
“So long as it keeps us cool,” I suggested.
“Ah, no! It will not be cool music!” cried Gazza—“for those who understand.”
“Are those boys bathing?” Hortense now inquired.