Presently she bent over the table, extended her arm, and lifted a small burning lamp of silver toward him; and, thanking her, he lighted his cigarette.
"Siesta?" she asked.
"No; I feel fairly normal."
"That's abnormal in Florida. But if you really don't feel sleepy—if you really don't—we'll get the Gracilis—our fastest motor-boat—and run down to the Beach Club and get father. Shall we—just you and I?"
"And the engineer?"
"I'll run the Gracilis if you will steer," she said quietly.
"I'll do whichever you wish, Calypso, steer or run things."
She looked up with that quick smile which seemed to transfigure her into something a little more than mortal.
"Why in the world have I ever been afraid of you?" she said. "Will you come? I think our galley is in commission.... Once I told you that Calypso was a land-nymph. But—time changes us all, you know—and as nobody reads the classics any longer nobody will perceive the anachronism."
"Except ourselves."