There in a wide green space some lightly-clad beings were dancing backwards and forwards. One in the front called out unintelligible commands in a shrill voice.
William and Ginger crept behind a tree.
“Savages!” said William in a hoarse whisper. “Cannibals!”
“Crumbs!” said Ginger. “What’ll we do?”
The white-clad figures began to leap into the air.
“Charge ’em,” said William, his freckled face set in a determined frown. “Charge ’em and put ’em to flight utterin’ wild yells to scare ’em—before they’ve time to know we’re here.”
“All right,” said Ginger, “come on.”
“Ready?” said William through set lips. “Steady ... Go!”
******
The New School of Greek Dancing was a few miles down the coast from where William and Ginger had originally set forth in the boat. The second afternoon open-air class was in progress. Weedy males and æsthetic-looking females dressed in abbreviated tunics with sandals on their feet and fillets round their hair, mostly wearing horn spectacles, ran and sprang and leapt and gambolled and struck angular attitudes at the shrill command of the instructress and the somewhat unmusical efforts of the (very) amateur flute player.