I turned upon my back for a moment’s rest, and, as I did so, heard a cry. I resumed my former attitude, and brushed the salt water from my eyes.
The dinghy was wobbling unsteadily. The dressing-gown was in the bows; and he, my sea-god, was in the water. Only for a second I saw him. Then he sank.
How I blessed the muscular development of my arms.
I reached him as he came to the surface.
“That’s twice,” he remarked contemplatively, as I seized him by the shoulders.
“Be brave,” I said excitedly; “I can save you.”
“I should be most awfully obliged,” he said.
“Do exactly as I tell you.”
“I say,” he remonstrated, “you’re not going to drag me along by the roots of my hair, are you?”
The natural timidity of man is, I find, attractive.